


The Stars, the Sun, and what they did with the Moon

by Icka M Chif (mischif)



Series: Rooftop Conversations [2]
Category: Magic Kaitou, Meitantei Conan | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast, Friendship, Gen, Medical Inaccuracies, Mystery, On the Run, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-08
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 03:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif/pseuds/Icka%20M%20Chif
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The Kaitou Kid's gone missing, and Conan has a favour he'd like to repay. Too bad he needs Hakuba's help to save the Kid.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sun, Stars, and Moon, pt 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this behemoth since... um. November 2010-ish. In February, my laptop died, taking between 5,000-10,000 words of this story and some major research-intensive notes with it. Such as the timeline. Today, it finally decided, fook it, it's continuing from where it left off, and the first part's getting posted.  
> Written to Mumford and Sons - [Little Lion Man](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLJf9qJHR3E).on repeat.
> 
> [Gunshot wound and treatment research notes here](http://ickaimp.livejournal.com/648429.html).

"Where is he!?" Conan demanded of the tall blond teenager in front of him, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Edogawa?" Hakuba stared down at him in muffled surprise, hands tucked into the long coat he was wearing. "What are you doing here? Who are you talking about?"

"Don't play." Conan growled, resisting the urge to grab Hakuba by the coat and shake him for information in desperation. His own searches had led to dead ends and time was a factor. "You know who I'm talking about. You wouldn't be here if you didn't."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." The half-British detective brushed him off and kept walking down the street.

"11:42 last night." Conan hissed, loud enough that the retreating detective could still hear him, but no loud enough to draw attention. "Two minutes before radio blackout."

Hakuba almost seemed to stumble, footsteps faltering.

"You were there." Conan continued. "I heard you on the police band. You have to know where he is."

"Why?" Hakuba's posture was stiff, almost defensive as he slowed, not yet stopping. Conan had made no secret of his intent to capture the Kaitou Kid, and while he could understand Hakuba's reluctance to give up finding the thief first, time was not their ally at the moment.

'Because he's mine.’ Conan almost wanted to say. Kid was his thief, his... confidant. Possibly friend. A year of rooftop conversations had changed him, for the better. Kid had helped him in little small ways and he needed to return the favour. "We... talk." He admitted. "He brings up your name occasionally."

Now Hakuba stopped, as if he'd been struck. Conan slowly approached him, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and sliding the blue and red card inside out, holding it up like a peace offering.

' **Keep Calm and Freak Out**.'

Hakuba took it, flipping it over and reading the text on the other side. ' **Now Panic and Carry On**.'

"The first one is his." Conan said softly. "The second one is mine."

The blond made almost a hiccuping sound, like a cross between a cough and a laugh. "He gave me one as well." Hakuba admitted, his voice slightly rough as he handed the card back as he reached for his own wallet.

The card was a pale green, with a teapot on the top. ' **Keep Calm and Make Tea**.' Conan raised an eyebrow at that, lips twitching in amusement.

Hakuba took the card back, staring at Conan seriously for a moment. "Turning him over right now would be a death sentence." He finally said, all quiet dignity.

"I know." Conan met his gaze for a moment, and then glanced away, the weight of his decision already pressing upon him. "He helped me. I'm here to help him."

"Even if it means abetting a criminal?" Hakuba pressed. Conan winced, and then nodded. It went against every moral he had, helping a criminal. But he owed Kid.

"I'm not going to hand him over." He swore, meeting Hakuba's eyes. "This doesn't go beyond us." He didn't want it to include Hakuba at all, but he needed the other detective's knowledge and strength. Hakuba had been here last night, had seen where the Kid had vanished. And if the Kid was in need of medical attention, Conan wasn't big or strong enough to carry a full sized person.

Hakuba nodded. "Agreed." He said, offering his hand, almost like a dare. Conan met him, dare for dare, taking the larger hand in a firm grasp and shaking on it. Something eased slightly in Hakuba's expression and Conan realised that the other detective's reluctance came from his own desire to protect the thief. It made Conan's decision slightly easier to bear.

"According to the police reports and several eye-witnesses, he went down there." Hakuba pointed to where a small street several blocks down was still cordoned off with yellow police tape. Plain clothes-men loitered around it, obvious in their attempts to blend in.

"So obviously, he's not there." Conan deduced.

Hakuba nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. "They have already thoroughly examined it, and the streets on either side. There were a few dashes of blood, possibly his, some scraping on the ground, but no other signs of presence."

"Which means he's in a non-obvious place."

"Precisely." Hakuba's face got a pinched look. "A second set of eyes would not be amiss." He said, as if offering a cease fire.

"If you'll look high, I'll look low." Conan agreed, suggesting the same arrangement that he usually did with Hattori. It worked well for them.

Hakuba inclined his head in agreement. "I've been working in a clockwise spiral pattern, around the surrounding neighbourhood. If he is here, he has hidden his tracks well."

Conan glanced around, looking up at the buildings. He'd looked up maps of the area on-line, but maps didn't completely cover buildings and nooks and crannies. "Which way was he coming?"

Hakuba traced an arc in the air, over the officer's heads, his hand stopping above them. "There." He said dully. "He was flying north west when he was... interrupted. From the south."

Conan stared at the sky, following the flight Kid must have taken. "He can release himself from the glider." He mused. "It will fly on, like a kite."

Hakuba's expression flickered, apparently not having known that. "A dark cloak-"

"-would disguise his fall." Conan finished the thought.

"So therefore, if we re-trace his previous trajectory, rather than the flight of the glider..." Hakuba turned and dashed off at a brisk pace, Conan nearly trotting to follow at his heels. The plainclothes officers looked up as they walked by.

"This boy misplaced his brother." Hakuba said smoothly as they passed, resting his hand on top of Conan's hand, ostensibly guiding him. "I'm assisting him in locating him before continuing the investigation." Conan did his best to look small and helpless, hoping that none of them recognised him. Most of the officers in Division One knew him on sight, and a few from Nakamori's group in Division Two. Fortunately, the officers merely grunted and waved them on.

Hakuba 'led' Conan away, keeping a hand on Conan's head until they were out of the officer's view. "This way." He instructed, glancing at the sky, as if verifying their position. Hakuba increased his brisk pace, long legs eating the ground. Conan scanned the ground for signs of Kid's passing. Hakuba abruptly stopped at the same time Conan spotted some scuff marks on the ground, something heavy having been dragged on the ground.

He opened his mouth to tell Hakuba, when the taller detective pulled out a pen light and shone it on the wall. "Blood." He announced grimly.

"Here." Conan turned on his own flashlight, aiming it at the scuff marks. Hakuba followed the dark smear on the wall down, where they met the scuff marks. They both aimed their flashlights down the shadowed narrow alley, finding nothing but a pair of trash cans. Conan gave a questioning glance towards Hakuba. There?

Hakuba frowned, as if doubting that conclusion, but he gamely moved forward. They warily approached the cans, uncertain how defensive a cornered potentially wounded thief would be.

"Kaito?" Hakuba said quietly, and Conan noticed that it was a short 'o', not a longer 'o' sound, confirming an earlier suspicion of his. Hakuba opened the trash can lid. Inside were several grocery bags, filled with the remains of lunch and shopping excursions. Hakuba set the lid down, pulling a pair of gloves out of a pocket and quickly sorted through them. No Kid.

He did the same to the second, pulling out a large black garbage back with one hand. Obviously not the Kid. Conan prowled around the cans, looking for further clues or signs. There was a smear, slightly darker than the ground on the ground on the other side of the trash cans. "This way." He motioned.

The alley opened up behind a convenience mart. A van was parked on one side, a dumpster on the other. There were a few smears of dark red that were nearly unnoticeable with the splashes of soda along the side of the dumpster. He and Hakuba exchanged a look.

"Kaitou?" Hakuba repeated, long 'o' this time as he opened the lid of the dumpster. Conan was too short to see, watching Hakuba's dark hazel eyes flickering through the confined space. "It's full." He announced.

Conan made a face, pulling out his own pair of gloves and sliding them on. "Lift me up." He instructed, holding his arms up. Hakuba set the lid down, and then crouched, awkwardly wrapping his arm around Conan's middle, picking him up. It was more comfortable than someone grabbing him by his collar and lifting him, but not much more dignified.

Hakuba lifted the lid again, and Conan grabbed the lip of the dumpster, hauling himself inside. Hakuba released Conan as soon as he caught his balance, crawling on the misshapen black bags that crunched under his weight. He was almost afraid to move too much, in case he stepped on the Kid.

"I believe we can safely discard those on the top." Hakuba said, reaching in and pulling bags out with his free hand. Conan assisted, handing him the ones in the back. They cleared several away when Conan's hand rested on a bag containing something hard that didn't go crunch.

"Think I found something." He commented over his shoulder, shoving bags away. Hakuba grunted, grabbing the bags he moved and hauling them outside. Under the cover of a black bag, it didn't take much imagination to see the silhouette of a head and shoulders. He paused, examining the plastic, thoughts of Kid's corpse tossed in the trash nearly blindsiding him.

His explorations revealed a slit in the back, allowing him to easily pull the bag over Kid's head, revealing the thief's monocled face. The thief's left arm was raised, clasping his right shoulder, which was stained in brown blood, the darkness spreading over his chest. "Is he-?" Hakuba questioned, his voice only wavering slightly.

Conan peeled a glove off, holding his hand in front of Kid's nose and mouth. His heart beat loudly in his chest as at first he felt nothing, no movement, and then there was the smallest movement of air over his bare hand. Hurriedly, fingers almost shaking, he pressed his fingers against Kid's neck, trying to find the cardioid artery.

"There's breath." He reported. "It's faint, but he's breathing. I can't find a pulse."

Hakuba let out a heavy breath. "That's something, at least." He murmured, tones dry wit once more.

Conan shoved more bags away, exposing Kid's chest and pressing his ear against where the heart should be. There was the faint rise and fall of the chest, but no reassuring double thump of the heart beat. He pulled his head away, trying again. His ear hit something strangely textured, and Conan pulled his head away.

There, where Kid's heart rested, was a hole in his jacket. With nervous fingers, he pulled the material away, finding a second hole in the blue shirt underneath.

Under that was the thick black material of a bullet resistant vest. Thank _God_.

"Hole in his jacket." He announced, for Hakuba's sake. "He's wearing a vest." Hakuba muttered something, a prayer or a curse, Conan wasn't sure.

"Anything else?" Hakuba asked as Conan groped for Kid's wrist, sliding his fingers under the cloth of his cuffs, noting that the thief's glove was gone and the hand was covered in crusting dried blood. He pressed his fingertips against the radial artery, panic rising as he realised that he couldn't find a steady beat against the side of the wrist. No pulse. They should start doing CPR, but that was impossible to do so inside the dumpster. Or through the vest.

Brain death occurred three minutes after oxygen started flowing to it. Kid had been shot almost 8 hours previous. There was no way to guess when his heart had stopped, or if it was just so sluggish he couldn't tell at the moment.

"Not sure." Conan reported. "Just a moment." He shoved the remaining bags over to the other side, piling them up. There was a change in light and pressure and he looked over his shoulder to see that Hakuba had lifted the lid all the way up, resting it against the wall.

"I'm coming in." Hakuba announced, shedding his long jacket, revealing a pale white scarf under it, resting both on some of the bags. Conan quickly handed him two more bags, uncovering Kid's legs, curled up towards his chest in a foetal position, before scooting next to Kid's side making room for the taller teenager. The thigh of Kid's left leg was covered in drying blood as well.

Hakuba vaulted into the dumpster, landed in a crouch, mindful of where Kid was. His gaze flickered back and forth, taking in positioning. "We cannot tend for him here." Hakuba said flatly and Conan nodded in agreement. Too high of a risk of infection, too noticeable of a location. "If I lift him over the edge, can you assist him to the ground?"

"Yes." Conan nodded, scooting past Hakuba. He pulled himself over the edge, and then jumped down. He could hear Hakuba moving inside, stumbling a bit before he appeared, carrying Kid in a bridal style grip. Hakuba carefully released Kid's legs, the left thigh covered in blood, letting them dangle before gently lowering the thief down as far as he was able. Conan grabbed Kid's chest as it became in reach, grunting at the weight. Kid was heavier than he looked.

"Got him." He announced as Hakuba reached the end of his reach. Hakuba nodded and released Kid, Conan grunted again as Kid's lax body slumped against him, walking to the side and lowering Kid the rest of the way to the ground. He continued holding Kid's head, silently excusing it as a way to check for head injuries, but really unwilling to let him rest completely in the filth of the ground. No bumps or contusions on the skull that he could feel.

... Kid really did look like him. The adult him. Shin'ichi.

Hakuba flailed inside for a moment, and then pulled himself to the edge of the dumpster in a crouch, gathering himself for a moment before leaping over Kid's body. He stumbled a bit on the landing, turning it into a semi-graceful turn. His gaze flickered at Conan for a moment, and then nodded before kneeling down and examining Kid's chest.

He began unbuttoning the jacket in a briskly professional manner, tugging the tie off and handing it to Conan, who tucked it into a pocket. The shirt was undone, revealing the black vest underneath. Hakuba made a hissing noise at the sight of the bullet hole, and then continued checking the rest of the torso for injuries. There was tear in the vest on his lower right side and Hakuba glanced up at Conan, question in his eyes.

"I cannot ascertain if there is a slug in there as well without removing the vest." Hakuba said quietly.

Conan thought it over. "Removing the vest may cause more injury than leaving it on." He pointed out, choosing prudence for the moment. The stiff vest was probably protecting the ribs as well. The possibility of cracked or broken ribs was high after taking a slug to the chest. He only hoped it hadn't penetrated.

Hakuba nodded once, continuing his explorations. No further visible injuries on the chest and the left arm, but the right arm was a bright red mess. With a soft 'snick', Hakuba unfolded a pocket knife and cut the sleeves away, finding the Kid's missing glove. It was partially stuffed _inside_ a bloody hole in Kid's upper arm. "Clever." Hakuba said, lifting the arm to look at the underside. "He used the glove to stop the bleeding. It's a through and through. We will need to clean it."

They needed to get Kid someplace safe first. He closed his eyes, trying to figure where he could take an unconscious internationally wanted jewel thief.

"My house and laboratory are under currently observation." Hakuba said with a dark scowl, using the torn shirtsleeves to bind the wound on the upper arm. "His residence is similarly inhospitable."

"I know a place." Conan sighed. "It's in Beika though."

"We can get him there, if you do not mind leading the way." Hakuba motioned with his head towards the jacket he'd left on one of the cleaner trash bags, carefully raising the Kid off of Conan and into a sitting position. He paused a moment, checking Kid's legs, pausing at the shallow cut on the Kid's thigh. "Graze." He dismissed it before grabbing his long coat and scarf, turning his attention back towards Conan. "If you will assist me in clothing him in thus."

Clever. A disguise layer that no one would question. Planning and forethought on the blond's part.

He carefully eased Kid's arms into the over-sized sleeves, pulling the collar up and straightening it. The buttons were awkward to do up, Kid's head lolling to one side as they did so, as if Kid were asleep, or drunk. Not dead. Still breathed, not dead.

They wrapped the scarf around Kid's head, the soft fabric covering his lower face, the monocle and messy hair sticking out haphazardly above it. Hakuba reached forward, faltering a moment as his fingers trembling slightly before removing Kid's monocle.

Conan realised he'd been holding his breath and released it. Kid was unmasked. The world didn't end.

Hakuba swallowed, and then nodded, as if reaffirming something to himself.

"We need to replace the trash bags." Hakuba mused, slipping the monocle into a pocket. "Can you prop him up?"

"Yeah." Conan nodded, taking Kid's weight. Hakuba nodded, and then rose to his feet, quickly throwing the bags in with little regard for neatness or order. He stripped his latex gloves off, then used them as if they were potholders, lowered the lid back down, tossing them inside just before it closed.

Conan stared at the Kid's unmonocled face, realising that he could see Kid's face clearly for the first time. No monocles, hat brim or nighttime shadows veiling him.

Kid looked like a normal person, a very weary and ill person wrapped up in a scarf, but a normal person.

"Ready?" Hakuba inquired, kneeling down in front of Kid and Conan. Conan nodded, and then helped drape Kid over Hakuba's back, Kid's arms sprawled over the blond's shoulders, head resting on one shoulder. Hakuba muttered dark things to himself as he staggered up to his feet, hands gripping Kid's thighs for balance.

"Nearest subway is back towards where we met." Conan said, motioning over his shoulder as he removed his own gloves. He turned one inside out, tucking the other inside as he did, tucking it into his pocket to dispose of it later. They were already leaving a trail with Hakuba's gloves, should anyone wish to follow them.

Hakuba grunted and started walking, Kid flopping over him. Conan trotted after, noting that it looked like one friend helping another friend home from either a bad cold or too many beers. No reason for anyone to suspect that the person on Hakuba's back was the Kaitou Kid.

They ran into the police officers a few blocks away from where they had left them. This set off mental alarms, because Hakuba was purposely taking a path that would have avoided them. Conan shifted closer to Hakuba, close enough to brush his trousers as the officers moved closer, not liking their aggressive body language.

"We found the boy's brother." Hakuba said placidly, the disdainful arrogant mask back in place. Conan hadn't noticed how emotive Hakuba had been until he wasn't anymore. "He's not doing well."

"'Niichan's sick." Conan said, laying on the 'earnest lost little boy' a little thick. "Oniisan is helping me take him home."

"Just as well." One of the officers shrugged, his body language more like a High School Delinquent than a Police Officer. "Got better things to do than to watch you walk around."

Hakuba's spine stiffened, but he didn't verbally respond to the slight. He inclined his head in acknowledgment of the comment, and then kept walking. Conan glanced up at the disdainful looks on the officer's faces and quickly followed.

Conan followed silently until the officers disappeared in the distance. "I get that too." He offered quietly.

"Doubtlessly it is due to your apparent age and supposed lack of experience rather than postulated nepotism." Hakuba muttered, and there was just a bit of a bitter bite to it.

... Right. Hakuba's father was the Commissioner. He'd taunted Hattori with the idea that they were both detectives because of their parents back at Detective Koshien. Conan stared at Hakuba for a moment, seeing the dark smudges under the eyes from a lack of sleep, the determination in the jaw, the protective rage that was fueling the body.

Dedication and persistence didn't come from who one's parent was.

Conan didn't know what to say, so he let the matter drop. He wasn't much for idle chatter, unless he was with the Shonen Tantei in which case idle chatter was a must, and Hakuba didn't appear to be in a talkative mood at the moment.

Fortunately it was past time for the morning rush and the subways were relatively empty, allowing Hakuba to set Kid on the seats, Kid leaning against the blond's larger body, Conan sitting protectively on the other side. They garnered a few strange looks, but between Conan's scowl and Hakuba's placid stare, people turned away and left them alone.

"Where are we going?" Hakuba asked as he picked up the Kid again, dis-embarking at Beika.

"You ever hear of Kudo Shin'ichi?" Conan asked, trotting ahead to deal with the doors.

"Yes."

"His house." Conan said simply. "He's away travelling, he trusts me with the keys."

"His... apprentice?" Hakuba inquired, raising one skeptical eyebrow.

Conan shrugged. "You could say he taught me everything he knows." Hah.

"Not Mouri-san?" The skepticism in Hakuba's tone increased, just a touch. His expression was slightly incredulous as well.

Conan snorted. "Not hardly."

"Ah." Hakuba's expression cleared. "A PR line then. I had wondered. It seems as if he relies on you more than you do on him."

"Yeah." What was that line? 'A Squirrel was just a Rat with a good Public Relations Department'. And Conan made an excellent PR department. "Although I think the house is under observation as well. Although I doubt it the same ones who are after him."

"I dare not assume too much around him." Hakuba said neutrally and Conan briefly fought the urge to snicker. The thief thrived on the unexpected.

The amusement faded as Hakuba's expression turned serious. "Why do you doubt that it may be the same people?"

"Different goals." Conan shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Shin'ichi-niichan saw an illegal transaction and they tried to kill him for it." Using a poison that was a by-product for the search for immortality. "He's after some sort of sparkly."

"Hmm." The noise Hakuba made was thoughtful and made Conan's eyebrow rise.

"Do you know something?"

"I am not sure." Hakuba said cautiously. "Nothing I currently care to speculate on until he wakes up enough to verify."

Caution, a trait Hakuba hadn't displayed much of previously. Conan looked up at the comatose Kid on the detective's back. Did Hakuba know something that Conan didn't?

"Should we be circumspect in our approach to the residence?" Hakuba inquired, changing the subject.

"Not really." Conan shrugged. "I only have the keys to the front gate with me, and the current resident is out." Thank goodness for small favours. And he couldn't see them climbing a wall taller than Hakuba to get in the back. Hakuba hummed, but didn't say anything, merely plodding along, Conan trotting slightly ahead to lead him, keeping an eye out for trouble. It was quiet out; much like Beika normally was this time of day. Nothing untoward happening.

It was almost enough to make him nervous.

He opened the gate for Hakuba as they approached, locking it behind them once they were in, Hakuba waiting placidly as he ran ahead to open the front door. The house was echoingly empty inside, smelling slightly stuffy from having been closed up for the past week.

"Can you handle the stairs?" He asked, locking the door behind them. "We can put him in Shin'ichi-niichan's bedroom."

Hakuba looked at the stairs as if he'd just been asked to slay a dragon, and then wearily nodded. Conan moved ahead, stopping half-way up the stairs to watch Hakuba slowly and laboriously worked his way up the stairs without releasing the thief on his back. Conan moved up as Hakuba approached, escorting them to his old bedroom. Hakuba made a beeline for the bed as soon as he saw it, turning around to sit on it, releasing Kid's legs with a heavy sigh.

"Do you have a first-aid kit?" He asked quietly, rubbing a shoulder for a moment, dislodging Kid's arm.

"Yeah." Conan nodded, watching the way Kid remained slumped against Hakuba, close as two lovers. He turned away, heading to the bathroom, trying to focus on what supplies they were going to need and what he knew they already had.

Somehow, he didn't think triple-antibiotic cream and band-aids were going to be enough to patch Kid up.

The bathroom kit was well stocked, but small. He wandered into his parent's room, pulling their emergency first-aid kit out. It was larger, meant to be nearly an EMT kit. He dug around and it next to a dark bottle of peroxide that his mother swore she didn't need for her hair. Hah.

He stopped to watch for a minute when he stepped in, finding Hakuba untucking Kid's blue shirt, pulling it away from the thief and cutting it off with his pocket knife. The thief's arms are now bare, but the woolen scarf remained around Kid's face, doing its meager duty to protect the Kid's identity.

It was kind of jolting to realise that he had the Kaitou Kid in his bed.

Soon to be a partly naked Kaitou Kid on his bed.

Huh.

"I have the first-aid kits." He announced. Hakuba glanced up at him and nodded before turning his attention back to his task at hand.

"Thank you." Hakuba said, pulling the ruined blue and red material to the side, adding it to the pile of white scraps that used to be Kid's coat. He set the knife to the side and starting to work on untying Kid's white oxfords. Conan placed the supplies on the bed and worked on the shoe closest to him, pulling up the pants legs as he did so. Unlike the startling clean white shoe, one of Kid's blue socks was slightly more worn than the other, stretched out and baggy. They set the shoes down at the foot of the bed, Hakuba grabbing the knife again and slicing Kid's left trouser leg up to the hip.

"He's probably going to make me pay for a new pair later." Hakuba muttered off-handily and Conan clamped down on another spike of jealousy at the casual familiarity of the comment. He turned away and flicked on the light instead, giving them just a little more illumination. Hakuba made a distracted hum of gratitude, crouched down to peer at the gash on Kid's leg.

"Gloves?" Hakuba asked, his tone distracted. Conan opened the larger first-aid and pulled out a pair of clear latex gloves, passing them over. Hakuba put them on with an absentminded air, probing the wound. "We're going to need to clean this." He said grimly, Hakuba's nose entirely too close to Kid's groin for Conan's comfort.

Conan nodded, dashing out again, this time to grab a large mixing bowl from the kitchen and a handful of towels. He dropped the towels off in the room before going into the bathroom to fill the bowl with warm water. He took his time returning, trying not to splash the water all over the house.

Hakuba glanced up and nodded at him as he returned, setting the bowl on the bed. Hakuba dunked a somewhat bloody towel in the water, then carefully scrubbed the dried blood off Kid's leg. Fresh blood, bright red against the darker brown oozed out, a mere trickle. Conan glanced at Kid's half-concealed face, but there was no change in expression or in his breathing patterns. Hopefully no pain.

"I do not believe it requires stitches." Hakuba said quietly, setting the towel in the bowl. "Butterfly bandages might not be amiss, however."

Conan pulled out the triple antiseptic and handed it to Hakuba before digging around for the small sticky bandages. With gentle touches, Hakuba applied the thick cream to the wound, cleaning the extra from the undamaged skin. Conan pulled half the backing off the butterfly bandages before passing them to Hakuba, who placed them with precision care over the gash, not sealing it completely, but holding everything in place before covering it with the gauze that Conan handed him. Together, they taped the gauze down. "Do you know if he's allergic to the adhesive?" Conan questioned quietly. The last thing they needed was a surprise allergic reaction to the glue.

Hakuba shook his head. "Uncertain." He admitted. "But considering his disguises, unlikely." Fake latex skin, and facial features, which required some form of glue.

Conan nodded as Hakuba straightened up, looking over Kid's still form. The leg wound was the easiest treated, they still had the ribs and shoulder. "I am... hesitant to work on the shoulder until after the vest is removed." Hakuba offered. Removing the vest would probably undo any repairs they did to the shoulder. On the other hand, removing the vest while there was quite possibly a bullet lodged in Kid's arm might cause more damage that their rudimentary first-aid skills couldn't repair.

"Can you cut the vest?" Conan asked. If they could peel him out of it, like a potato skin...

Hakuba shook his head. "Doubtful." Bullet resistant vests were designed to protect against stab wounds. Hakuba leaned forward, fingers examining the shoulders. "The straps however..." He grabbed the knife from the pile of rags, cutting the nylon straps above the buckles used to adjust it. The shoulders fell away, the shoulder wound oozing a bit of red as the pressure was relieved. Conan grabbed a clean towel, wiping the blood away.

"Get the rest." Conan tilted his head towards the buckles that held the vest closed at the sides. Hakuba nodded, not wasting time with unfastening them, quickly cutting through the straps on Kid's uninjured side. The vest was compromised after having been shot anyway, it'd be better off to replace it than wear it again.

Hakuba moved around the bed to crouch next to Conan, pressing the knife along the top strap. "Ready?" Hakuba asked, looking at Conan. Conan nodded, bracing himself in case Kid suddenly moved.

Hakuba grabbed the top part of the vest, gripping it on the sides, just under the armpits. With a look of intense concentration, he slowly eased it up off the Kid, lifting it away as soon as it was off and dropping on the floor, exposing the thin white undershirt underneath. Kid seemed to take a sudden deep breath, then continued lay still once more.

Conan lifted one of his hands to press it against Kid's nose and mouth again. Faint, shallow breaths brushed against his hand. "He's still breathing." He reported and Hakuba let out a soft breath, nodding in return.

Hakuba grabbed the knife and cut the undershirt at the shoulders, then sliced it down the center, letting the two halves rest on either side of Kid. Conan reflectively winced as he saw the angry purple and red mark that blossomed across Kid's chest, easily the span of Hakuba's hand. The skin was at least unbroken, the vest having done its job of preventing the bullet from penetrating.

That didn't stop the shock of the force from spreading across the tissue, killing it. If they were in a hospital, Kid would be probably going into surgery right now.

It wasn't the metal bullet that caused most of the damage to tissue, but the localised shockwave that the bullet carried with it.

Hakuba looked at the large bruise dispassionately, resting his fingertips on the discolouration, exploring it with his hands. "The skin is strangely firm to the touch." He said, one eyebrow coming up in surprise.

"Bruised, not dead?" Conan's voice echoed his own shock. He'd been expecting them to need to debride the wound, cut all the soft pulverised dead muscle away so the healthy tissue could heal without rotting.

"As far as I can tell." Hakuba shrugged one shoulder. "There are no holes or indentations that I can feel. The tissue is warm to the touch and swollen, slightly firmer than normal, but not soft."

"Huh." He wasn't sure what to say to that. Damage was still damage, but it was damage that Kid might recover from without outside assistance.

Hakuba ran his hands away from the injured tissue, feeling along the ribs." Due to the heat and swelling I cannot tell if his ribs are cracked or broken." He said, gaze flickering at Conan. "It would require equipment we do not have."

"Not much we could do if they were cracked or broken anyway." Conan pointed out.

Hakuba nodded, then shifted to peer at the mark just below Kid's ribs on the right. "Some minor abrasion, most likely due to fabric burn, some bruising, but does not appear to have broken the skin." Hakuba reported, grabbing the antiseptic and slathering it on the injured area.

Hunting rounds, Conan was willing to bet. Long narrow bullets meant to penetrate, not get stuck.

A vest shouldn't have been able to protect from that as easily as it did. Despite the round hole in the fabric, perhaps the chest wound was a glancing blow and didn't penetrate.

Conan shifted, leaning over to place his head just above Kid's chest, careful not to rest any weight on the wounded tissue. He could feel Kid's exhalations on the back of his neck and hear the faint whooshing of the air entering and leaving Kid's body. "His breathing is shallow and regular, and I'm not hearing any rattles or difficulty."

Still no heart beat.

Logic said that they should be doing CPR. Logic also said that if the heart hadn't been beating that Kid should have stopped breathing ages ago. The body would be in rigour mortis by now, and the skin cool to the touch.

But he wasn't.

Conan knew dead bodies. Kid definitely wasn't dead. As long as Kid was breathing, there was hope. He wasn't going to give up that fragile hope, no matter how illogical it was.

Hakuba nodded, spreading more of the antiseptic on the ugly red wound with a touch that looked feather light. "All that remains then is the arm." He said heavily, straightening up. Conan obligingly sat back up, moving the towel away from the injury. Hakuba winced, then settled his face into a neutral expression, feeling around the injury.

"Help me get him on his side." Hakuba instructed. "I need to see the back."

Conan grimaced, but did so. Exit wounds were always worse than the entrance wounds.

The back of Kid's arm had a wad of formerly colourful fabric shoved into it, which Hakuba carefully tugged free. Fresh blood oozed, but didn't gush, meaning that the larger arteries hadn't been severed. The exit wound was about the size of a tennis ball, a crater of brown, red and white.

He was distantly grateful that neither of were inclined to be squeamish.

"Right." Hakuba said with a firm nod of his head. "We'll need to flush the wound. Do you have any saline at hand?"

"Just a minute." Conan slid off the bed, digging around in the big first aid kit. There was a large sealed bottle in there. "If this isn't enough, Mom wears contacts, I can grab her bottle for that. I'm going to empty the bowl, be right back. "

"Of course." Hakuba took the bottle with his free hand, still propping the Kid up with the other and ripping the sealing plastic away with his teeth with a move that struck Conan as unexpectedly savage. Conan picked up the bowl of bloody water and walked as fast as he could to the toilet without sloshing it all over himself and the ground. He dumped the entire mess into the toilet, tossed the pink and red streaked towel into the sink, rinsed it out, and ran back. This was not surprisingly easier with an empty bowl.

"Ready?" Hakuba inquired as he shoved the bowl under Kid's arm. Hakuba had placed several of the towels over the bed to protect it from any potential spray.

"Got it." Conan nodded, holding the bowl steady as Hakuba unscrewed the lid with a deft twist of his fingers, dropping the cap on the bed before squirting the saline solution into the injury. Conan winced as bits of fabric, flesh and dried blood came loose, sliding into the bowl. Hakuba was methodical, cleaning the wound like one would run a military sweep.

The wound was the messy red and pink of a fresh steak when he was done, the bottle empty. "If you will empty the bowl, I will need your hand for the bandaging." Hakuba said distantly, already setting the saline down and grabbing the antiseptic. Conan nodded, running off with the nearly full bowl while Hakuba started smearing the goop on the open wound.

He took the time to detour back to his parent’s bathroom after emptying the bowl, grabbing his mother's bottle of saline solution for contacts. They still had to flush the top part.

By the time he got back, Hakuba had a helpless air about him, one hand propping the Kid up, the other smeared with goop. Conan set the bowl down, propping Kid up as Hakuba grabbed the bandages, folding one into quarters and placing it on the wound before setting another on top. Hakuba held it in place as Conan taped it down. Once it was done, they set him back down.

"Entry wound." Hakuba's voice was still deadpan. It's the last thing, and they probably should have taken care of it first, but they both wanted to see how bad the damage was to the arm. Conan opened the bottle and handed it to Hakuba, then shoved the towels around the arm to keep the bandages dry. Hakuba grabbed a clean towel, alternating cleaning the wound and dabbing the water away.

Hakuba stopped and set the bottle down, peering closer. "Do we have tweezers?" He inquired.

Conan nodded and grabbed the first-aid kit again, unzipping a packet that had both tweezers and needles, handing the metal pinchers to the other detective. Hakuba nodded his thanks, leaning in and carefully poking at something, then pulling out a long thin sliver of metal. A bullet fragment, brittle metal flaking off.

Kid suddenly inhaled, a great gasping noise, eyes snapping open as he jolted, abruptly sitting upright. Hakuba reared backwards, flinging himself back to avoid a painful collision with the thief, who turned to stare at them with wide vibrant eyes that look more red than blue in the light.

"Detectives?" Kid got out, confused recognition in his gaze, and then just as suddenly as he came to awareness, he sank back down. Eyelids fluttered closed as Kid almost appeared to swoon, wavering back and forth for a moment before falling backwards onto the bed again.

They both boggled at the fallen thief for a long moment, then turned and stared at each other. Hakuba finally closed his mouth and cleared his throat. If his voice was slightly shaky when he spoke, Conan wasn't going to comment on it. "At least his cognitive abilities still appear to be with us."

Kid recognised them.

And he wasn't dead.

Hakuba let out a breath, obviously steeling himself. He set down the tweezers and picked up the saline bottle, finishing cleaning the wound and bandaging it. He rolled the Kid over on his side again, checking the back for any damage, but the bandage was still white. With a nod, Hakuba set the Kid back down, doing a cursory check of the other wounds before pulling the gloves off.

"That is the extent of my meager skills." Hakuba said, sounding weary. "Anything further and we will require the use of a hospital."

They both knew that was impossible. Gunshot wounds were very distinctive, and would be immediately tagged by the hospital, who would alert the authorities and Kid would be arrested in a matter of minutes.

Conan wasn't questioning why he didn't want Kid arrested right now. He told himself he owed the Kid and left it at that.

Wordlessly, they collected the used towels and equipment, by silent agreement leaving the first-aid kits next to the Kid. Hakuba followed him silently as he detoured to the toilet to collect the towel there, then headed downstairs. They put the bowl in the kitchen sink, various gloves and wrappers in the trash, and dumped the towels in the washing machine.

By general consensus, they headed back upstairs, checking on the Kid. The thief was still asleep, hadn't moved since they left. Conan glanced around, looking at Hakuba for a moment, realising that the blond had the Kid's blood speckled on his shirt. "Follow me." He said, making up his mind. He led Hakuba to his parent's room, opening the wardrobe, going through the button down shirts tucked in the back that his father didn't wear very often. "You can wear this." He said, passing the blond a dark forest green silk shirt that he knew his father hated. It'd been a gift from someone or another, and therefore he couldn't just throw it away, but it was acceptable to pass on.

"Thank you." Hakuba inclined his head, taking the shirt.

"Bathroom's right there if you want to shower." Conan pointed. Hakuba nodded and wandered off without another word, like he'd used up all the words he had for the time being. Conan debated taking slight to it, but he was weary enough feeling not to care.

He went back into his old room, climbing up onto the bed and curled up at the head, staring at the Kid's face. It was strange, having him here. Seeing him vulnerable. He'd only been privileged to see that once before, but Kid hadn't been sprawled out and helpless, but protectively curled up.

He didn't like it.

Then there was the question of who shot the Kaitou Kid. There were plenty of police officers that were annoyed at the thief, but theoretically not enough to assassinate him. The Kid played life almost like a game, inviting others to join in the fun, win or lose.

He'd heard rumour of another jewel thief once blackmailing the Kid into stealing for him, but that thief had died. Nightmare, or something like that.

So who?

Kid's sleeping face offered no answers. Conan continued to stare, his mind working on the problem.

After a while he realised that he'd been sitting there for a long time and yet to hear anything from Hakuba. He checked his watch, realising that almost an hour had past. Alarmed, he crawled off the bed, grimacing at the pins and needles feeling in his legs from sitting still for so long.

His parents room was empty, the door to the private bath shut. "Hakuba?" He knocked on the bathroom door. Hearing no answer, he opened the door.

Hakuba was curled up on the bathroom floor, legs curled up, arms and head resting on his knees. His hair was damp, wet spots on the dark green shirt he was wearing. "Hakuba-niichan?" Conan questioned in his most innocent voice, reaching out and tapping Hakuba on the shoulder.

He was not expecting the sudden recoil, the blond detective flailing backwards, limbs flying every which way. Hakuba only stopped once his back hit the ceramic of the bathtub, dark hazel eyes wide in panic as he stared without seeing at Conan.

Conan froze, half afraid of what the larger detective might do, but Hakuba merely clung to the tub and the wall, his breathing fast and harsh. "Hakuba-?" Conan finally ventured.

Hakuba let out an explosive breath, releasing the death grip on the tub and wall, rationality over ruling the panic. Hakuba's hands were shaking violently, like a leaf in the wind and he clutched them, cradling them to his abdomen. "Sorry." Hakuba whispered, then repeated himself, louder this time. "Sorry."

"I'm fine." Conan assured him, relaxing his stance as the flight or fight instinct started to fade. "What happened?"

Hakuba rubbed the bridge of his nose. "My apologies." He murmured. "I did not mean to drop off like that."

Looking at Hakuba, really looking at him, he realised that Hakuba had dark bags under his eyes, his skin pale and sallow. "When was the last time you slept?" Conan asked, concern starting to rise. "You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?" A Kaitou Kid heist in the late evening, then the stubborn blond had probably spent the rest of the night searching for signs that the Kid was alive, or who had shot him.

Not having the clues necessary to track him until Conan supplied the information about the glider.

"No." Hakuba shook his head. "There was too much going on. Is too much going on."

"What do you mean?" Now it was Conan who was left feeling as if he did not have enough clues.

Hakuba let out a deep breath, leaning his head backwards to rest on the edge of the tub. "It wasn't just Kid who was attacked." He admitted. "Nakamori-keibu's house was bombed last night. He was on his way home from the heist, and I'd only gotten word a few hours before we met that his daughter, my classmate Aoko, made it out alive. She has some burns that require hospitalization, but she will recover."

"Why would they bomb Nakamori-keibu?" Conan blurted. The pieces didn't fit.

Hakuba shrugged. "His neighbour's house, which belongs to a classmate of ours, burned down at the same time. Last report, they think it was an accident, secondary to Nakamori's."

"But you don't think so." Conan frowned.

"No." Hakuba shook his head.

One of Conan's eyebrows flickered upwards, fitting some small pieces together. "The house wouldn't happen to belong to Kuroba Kaito, would it?"

Hakuba's eyebrows disappeared into the fringe of his hair. "Why do you ask?"

"Kid started showing up to Mouri's house, bringing snacks and inviting me out for chats almost a year ago." Conan stared at Hakuba, watching him for reaction. "Your name came up sometimes, but the context didn't fit, if he only saw you during heists. The type of pen you used at school, for example. So he had to be someone in your same class. A search of school records brought up Kuroba Kaito's name."

Kuroba Kaito, the only son of the deceased World Famous Magician Kuroba Toichi. Who happened looked like Kudo Shin'ichi. Close enough that Ran might mistake Kuroba for Shin'ichi, walking along with another girl who looked like Ran, about the time of the Black Pearl robbery.

Nakamori Aoko looked like Ran.

Her father chasing the Kaitou Kid was motivation enough not to like the Kid.

 _Tell me a Lie_ , the Kid had said. He had a girlfriend who loved the Kaitou Kid.

Flip it. He knew someone he wanted as a girlfriend, one who hated the Kaitou Kid.

Q.E.D.

"Kuroba Kaito is the Kaitou Kid." Conan concluded quietly, no trace of victory in his tone. He stared at Hakuba, daring the other detective to refute it.

Hakuba stared back, an almost defeated look to his eyes.

"I've known for months." Conan confessed. "He disappeared for a while and I was... concerned. I put together the little things he’d let slip and tracked him down, to Ekoda High. I didn't do anything then, I'm not going to do anything now."

He got a nod in return. Not much, but something.

"How long have you known?" Conan asked, his curiosity piquing.

"A couple of years." Hakuba murmured. "I figured it out a few months after I moved back to Japan. I suspect Nakamori-keibu might know as well, but he has never shown any inclination where others might see."

Nakamori, who had been targeted shortly after the Kaitou Kid was shot. If someone was targeting accomplices of the Kaitou Kid, Hakuba would be up there on the list. And yet, Hakuba had continued to search for the Kid.

"My laboratory was targeted." Hakuba admitted wearily. "They found the explosives before they detonated. The police are examining the de-activated bomb now."

"What were you doing wandering around?!" Conan snapped. "Are you suicidal?"

Hakuba shrugged, as if it was a minor concern. "Someone had to find Kid."

"The police-"

"Had other things on their minds." Hakuba shook his head. "Kuroba’s Uncle's pool hall was burned down early this morning, along with a few other buildings and abandoned warehouses across the city. There is an arsonist on the loose and the Metropolitan Police's top priority is the safety and welfare of their citizens."

This explained the less than austere attitude of the officers who had been ‘watching’ Hakuba.

Actually, no, it didn't. If they were there to protect Hakuba from someone who was taking out people around the Kid, they were doing an abysmal job of it. Which didn't make sense.

Unless they weren't interested in protecting Hakuba at all. Quite the opposite.

"The officers on the scene-"

"I have never seen them before today." Hakuba rolled his head forward, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. "Neither had anyone else. And I can easily say that I have met most of the officers in the greater metropolitan area at one point or another."

Because his Father was the Commissioner.

Conan rubbed his own forehead. "I need to think." He admitted, then glanced at Hakuba. "And you need sleep."

"No." Hakuba shook his head, wobbly rising to his feet. "They-"

"Could push you over with a feather right now." Conan snapped. "You need rest if we're going to be able to help him at all. _I_ can't carry him."

Hakuba stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright." He acquiesced.

"You can share the bed with Kid." Conan pointed over the shoulder. "He's not in any state to care, and I'd rather have us all together."

"Likewise." Hakuba agreed. He staggered forward and Conan made a quick departure from the small room, giving Hakuba space to move. He walked behind Hakuba as the blond made his way down the hallway however, not entirely certain that Hakuba could make his way there unassisted. But Hakuba's stubbornness kept him upright until he got next to the bed, when he succumbed to gravity, falling face first onto the bed, eyes closed and asleep before his head finished hitting the pillow.

As Conan predicted, Kid didn't move, much less seem to care. The edge of Hakuba's pinkie finger just barely brushed Kid's shoulder, the one point of contact between them. Conan stared at it for a few moments, his brain running in circles.

Months. Years. Hakuba had been right there, next to the Kid, watching him, learning about him, interacting with him, talking to him. Conan had Kid for a fist full of nights to talk to. Hakuba knew little things, like Kid was left-handed, but he pretended to be dominate with his right. He wondered if Hakuba knew that Kid seemed to be fond of chocolate and comic books.

He didn't think they were friends, exactly. But Kid was obviously fond of the blond.

Annoyed at his thoughts, he left the room, making a perimeter of the building, sealing doors and windows to the best of his ability, keeping an eye out for suspicious activity. It was quiet out, almost too quiet, and the silence got on his nerves. If the mysterious organisation was after himself, Kid and Hakuba, then they should have made a move by now. Even a blind fool could see that Kid was injured and not going anywhere without assistance, it wasn't like they could flee _quickly_.

Unless they were waiting for someone else. Gathering up all the little targets into one place.

Conan frowned to himself, trying to figure out who else they might be after. Obviously, Haibara and Agasa might be targets. Vermouth knew that he was Shin'ichi too.

Vermouth didn't age.

Obviously then, the strange and theoretically supernatural was not outside her realm of existence.

What was Kid after?

Kid had warned him once that catching him was akin to opening Pandora's Box. There were many ways to take that, that once the knowledge was revealed, you couldn't unlearn it, but knowing Kid's identity hadn't been earth shattering, world breaking. So obviously, it was whatever he was targeting that would break Conan's brain.

He sighed to himself, going down to the library and retrieving a laptop from his father's desk. Bringing it upstairs, he began running searches on the night's explosions, trying to see if he could discern a pattern. It was essentially busy work, but he needed more information before being able to try to figure out the Kaitou Kid.

Hakuba and Kid didn't move as he searched, the only movement the rise and fall of both of their chests. Conan had never been superstitious, but it was eerily like being in a room with two corpses. And while it wasn't enough to send him into a screaming fit like Ran, it was slightly unsettling. He wasn't used to being around people whom he wasn't interacting with, or at least people whom he couldn't gather more data from observing.

The explosions, as far as he could track down, were completely random. There was nothing to tie them together. An entire huge empty warehouse, a basement bolt hole, an attic apartment, residential houses, a pool hall. Different physical locations, economic statuses, everything.

It was most disturbing. And annoying.

The front door slamming shut jolted him out of his perusal and he cursed himself for not paying attention. He tossed the laptop down on the bed, running to the stairs, flipping open the stun watch and priming it.

Only to be met with a furious Ran, who was barrelling her way up the stairs. Conan gaped for a minute. "r-Ran! Neechan!" He added, falling back into his role as Conan instead of the Shin'ichi in his thoughts. What was she doing here? He glanced at his watch, flipping it closed. It was still the middle of school!

"Where is he?!" Ran demanded, wiping sweat off of one cheek and Conan realised that she must have run here from Beika High. She charged past him, marching into Shin'ichi's room, leaving Conan to flail and chase after.

"Wait!" He called, trying to figure out what was going on and failing. What was Ran doing here?!

"Shin'ichi!" Ran exclaimed as she saw Kid and Hakuba on the bed. Hakuba startled, nearly levitating off the bed. Conan was pretty sure it was only through stubborn ingrained gracefulness that kept the blond refraining from falling backwards off the mattress. Instead Hakuba settled for raising his head up to blearily glare at them, obviously still highly sleep deprived.

Ran moved closer and Conan vaguely thought he heard Hakuba growl quietly at Ran's approach. "Oh my goodness!" Ran clutched her hands to her mouth. "What happened to him?!"

"What are you doing here, Ran-neechan?" Conan piped up. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

Her expression suddenly came down, furious. "Wait. That's not Shin'ichi."

"No. He is not." Hakuba said, his succinct tones clipped and verging on sarcastic. "What are you doing here?"

"I got a text from Shin'ichi." Ran fished her phone out of a pocket, holding it up. "Saying he was here, injured and needing my help."

Conan's brain _screamed_. "That wasn't Shin'ichi!" He grabbed his phone and started scrolling through numbers.

"What are you talking about?" Ran asked, confused as he hit the talk button. "What do you mean it wasn't Shin'ichi?"

"It's not Shin'ichi because I didn't send it!" He snapped, pulling his bow-tie away from his neck, fingers automatically finding the setting on the dials that he wanted. The phone picked up a cheerful voice singing hello. "SONOKO!" He snapped in Shin'ichi's voice. "Get your bodyguards and get to my house, **immediately**. The bomber is currently targeting Ran."

There was no question that Sonoko wouldn't know what he was talking about, explosions were right up her alley, loud and obnoxious. "On it." Sonoko snapped, a dangerous growl in her voice, the phone snapping dead. "We need to move." He said, glancing at Hakuba as he lowered his bowtie.

Hakuba nodded grimly back, rising from the bed and walking out into the hall. Shoes, he'd left them in the other room.

"w-Wait." Ran hesitated, glancing back and forth between the three of them. "What's going on?"

"It's a trap." Conan growled. "And you just triggered it."

Her face went pale. "Wh-what?"

"There is a motorcyclist out front." Hakuba informed them as he came back in, sliding on a suit jacket as he carried one of Conan's father's undershirts. He went to Kid's side, raising the thief up into a sitting position and started to quickly dress the thief.

Conan bit off a curse and ran to the front window. There was Vermouth, dressed in black leather, sitting astride a large purring motorcycle. She held up three fingers, then tapped her wrist.

Three minutes.

Enough time to get Ran away, to safety.

With a mock salute, she pulled away.

"TWO MINUTES." Conan bellowed, running back. They needed a safety margin to get out of the blast range. "Hakuba, can you operate a motorcycle?"

"Not proficiently, but effectively, yes." Hakuba retorted, pulling his long coat over Kid's limp arms.

"Great. We're taking Mom's motorcycle." He informed Hakuba. "Ran, help Hakuba get him down the stairs, we need to go NOW."

"I... Right." Ran nodded, determination falling over her face. She walked over, picking up the Kid under his arms and setting him on Hakuba's back, holding him steady as Hakuba got a good grip on the lax thief.

"Let's go!" Conan ran out the door into the hallway, the others following, their footsteps loud in their hurry. They rushed down the stairs in a mad scramble, Conan motioning the others out the back door as he made a detour to get the keys to the Harley.

When he got outside, Ran was helping to place Kid on the seat behind Hakuba. It was a tight fit, but workable. "How are you going to keep him from sliding off?" She asked, confused as Conan ran up. Hakuba pulled a pair of handcuffs from... somewhere, fastening them around the wrist that was over his shoulder, dropping Kid's other arm and wrapping it around his chest, fastening that wrist as well.

"That'll work." Conan agreed. They'd have to come up with something for the longer term, but for the moment, it would do. "Ran, get the back gate. Just kick it down, we don't have time for anything else."

She nodded, that determined look to her jaw again as she marched towards the gate. Conan scrambled up onto the motorcycle, sitting practically in Hakuba's lap and handing him the keys. Hakuba didn't comment, taking the keys and starting up the motorcycle.

There was a loud crash and the gate was now gone, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the alley, a determined Ran standing with one leg in the air in the now empty space. "Let's go." Hakuba said, revving the engine.

"Ran!" Conan called as the bike started to move. She nodded, jumping onto the back of the bike as Hakuba pulled past.

She wrapped her arms around Kid's hips, gripping the sides of the bike with her knees. "Go!" She barked and Hakuba poured on the speed, the four of them rocketing down the alley.

They had just made it to the far side when the house went up. The motorcycle wobbled a bit as the shockwave hit, but Hakuba kept them upright and moving.

They were a block away when a second explosion went up. Agasa's house.

Dammit.

Black sedans roared passed them, one of them suddenly turning to block their path, disrupting traffic. Hakuba braked suddenly, turning the bike sideways to keep them from going over the top and Conan panicked.

Until Sonoko stepped out, eyes wet with tears. "RAN!"

"Sonoko!" Ran shouted back, jumping off the back of the motorcycle to embrace her friend. Conan watched from Hakuba's lap as Ran's best friend led her into a car, black suited security guards scanning the area like paranoid watch dogs. Ran followed with trembling limbs, turning at the last second to stare back at them with teary eyes. "Shin'ichi." She whispered.

Conan felt something in his chest ache. "Go." He whispered.

"What?" Hakuba asked. Conan didn't look up to see his expression.

"Go." His voice broke as he repeated himself, white knuckling his grip on the gas tank.

Hakuba didn't ask twice, gunning the engine and tearing away, driving on the sidewalk for several metres before ducking down an alley. They dashed back and forth, going around random corners until Hakuba found an on-ramp to a highway and took it, rapidly accelerating.

When tears blurred his eyes, he told himself it was the sharp wind in his face. Hakuba didn't comment, just merged the motorcycle into the lane for traffic out of Tokyo, letting the sound of the engine fill the air.

It was sometime later when Conan shook himself out of his fugue and took stock of where they were. There were lots of pine trees, forests. "Where are we?" He shouted.

In response, Hakuba triggered the turn signal and coasted to a stop, parking the bike behind a clump of bamboo so they weren't immediately obvious from people driving by. "Sorry." Hakuba shook his head, easing his hands off the handlebars as if his fingers were cramped up. "You were saying?"

"Asking where we were." Conan adjusted his grip on the motorcycle as Hakuba hit the kickstand, leaning the bike at an angle.

"Somewhere north of Tokyo." Hakuba explained as he stretched his fingers out, then dug around in a pocket to pull out a key ring, unfastening the handcuffs around Kid's wrists. Kid still looked like he was sleeping the sleep of the dead, listing to the side. "I need a break, and we need to make some plans."

"Right." Conan slipped off of Hakuba's lap, landing on the ground and stumbling a bit. He checked his watch, surprised that it was only 4 o'clock. Was it only this morning that he'd started looking for Kid?

Hakuba wrapped an arm around Kid's waist as he dismounted, then carried the thief next to a tree, setting the Kid down at the base. "I will return momentarily." Hakuba promised, then walked into the forest. Conan listened to him crash through some of the undergrowth in confusion for a moment before he realised that Hakuba needed to tend the call of nature. Literally.

He wandered over and kneeled down to check on Kid. He was still breathing, but there was no pulse to be found. The handcuffs had scraped his wrists red, but didn't appear to have done more than irritate the skin. Conan reached up, running his fingers down the side of Kid's cheek. "What are we going to do with you?" He murmured, feeling hollowed out and tired.

Kid didn't answer.

Hakuba came crashing back, wiping his hands on a bamboo leaf, before discarding it to the side. "Any ideas?" He asked, getting to the heart of their current problem.

"Not really." Conan rose to his feet. It didn't make much of a difference if he was kneeling or standing, Hakuba was still over twice as tall as he was, but he felt more on even ground while standing. "Anyone who knows me will probably anticipating that I'll head south, seek refuge with Hattori."

"Or alternatively realise that you will not do the obvious choice." Hakuba countered. "I don't know how the group after you acts, but if they're anything like the ones chasing Kid, they're cunning and have a vast amount of resources."

"Sounds right." Conan nodded, then glanced back at Kid. "What we need right now is a bolt hole. Somewhere to put him for a while, someplace safe, at least for a few days. Neither of us is operating at full efficiency at the moment."

"An understatement if I have ever heard one." Hakuba admitted and Conan estimated that the other detective had less than two hours rest in the past 36, the past 18 having been both emotional and stressful. It would increase the chances of their having an accident if they continued to press him this hard. He needed to crash, and soon.

Conan frowned as he thought. "I have some favours I may be able to call in." He offered. "People I helped in the past." The downside being that there was a possibility that those same people could also be agents of the mysterious organisation, or might call the police in a misguided attempt to help. "Or there are several empty mansions I know if in the forests."

"Are we thinking long term or short term right now?" Hakuba questioned. "Over night or for several weeks?"

"Short term." Conan shrugged. "Why?"

"I... also may have some resources." Hakuba admitted. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, fishing out several 10,000 yen bills. "I had... a hunch... when I stopped by the Police Station before searching for the Kid and took the precaution of retrieving some cash. I also cleaned out my emergency fund that I hid at the station."

"You keep an emergency slush fund at the Police Station?" Conan questioned, slightly surprised.

Hakuba motioned to the Kid. "Do you think there is anywhere in my house or laboratory he does not have access to? Not that the amount of officers is a deterrent to him at the station."

"Good point." For all he knew, Kid wandered in and out of Mouri's apartments all the time. So they had some limited funds, but they still needed a place to hole up for at least the night. "How far north are we?" He asked.

Hakuba shrugged. "At least an hour. I figured if I went for the smaller highways it would be more obvious if anyone was following us."

"And?"

"None that I could see." Hakuba shrugged. Conan nodded, he hadn't felt anyone staring at him, that prickling awareness of eyes on him. He would have jolted awake at that.

"There is one of Samizu Kichiemon's mansions nearby, full of booby traps." Conan offered. "I know where it is, and where most of the traps are. The Shonen Tantei and I discovered it while camping a while back, and stumbled upon Kid there looking for a big jewel."

One of Hakuba's eyebrows rose. "Did he find it?"

"We did, yes. Also had to put it back, it triggered a flood when it was removed."

Hakuba made an odd face. "Interesting."

It really was, in retrospect. He'd let the Kid escape, in exchange for saving Genta's life.

"I'm pretty sure I can direct you there, once we get back on the road." Conan offered, walking over to the motorcycle and detaching the helmet that hooked on to the side. He offered it to Hakuba, who took it with a thoughtful look. Probably wishing that Conan had informed him sooner.

"Easier to fly under the radar." He commented, tugging on a lock of his tea-blond hair. Less likely for a police officer to pull them over as well.

"There's a spare on the other side." Conan offered, running around to the other side and holding it up. "We should probably put it on him."

"We also need alternative ways to secure him." Hakuba rolled his shoulders. "Perhaps the coat's belt."

"Do we still have the scarf?" Conan opened up one of the saddlebags, trying to see if there was anything useful in there. He found a handful of leather and pulled it out. He realised what it was and quickly put it back. Hakuba made a curious noise, and Conan felt his cheeks turn slightly red. "One of my mother's leather catsuits."

Hakuba glanced at the sleeping Kid with a calculating expression. "Not very logical for the moment." He said, slightly regretfully.

Conan checked the other saddlebag and found a change of women's clothing, an additional roll of money stashed at the bottom. Thank goodness Mom was prepared. He tossed it to Hakuba, who caught it, quickly thumbing through the mix of bills before tossing it back. "That will help." Hakuba said, slightly pleased at the amount stored there.

"And we can dress him in the women's clothes." Conan added, only half joking.

"Indeed." Hakuba agreed. Conan had a feeling that Hakuba wasn't joking at all. "If you will assist tying him to me, we may proceed. The scarf was shoved down his shirt before I put the coat on." Hakuba drawled, setting the helmet that Conan had tossed him on to Kid's head and fastening it. Kid looked like one of those nodding head dolls, all he needed was a vapid grin.

Hakuba picked up the Kid and sat him down on the bike first, with Conan propping him up as he got settled, purposely sitting on the loose coat, to pin Kid's legs to the vehicle. "I've got a better idea than the belt." Conan offered, pulling off his suspenders and fastening part of them around Kid, then climbing around the motorcycle to click the other end around Hakuba. Easy to release, and stronger than the cloth belt.

"Interesting." Hakuba commented, tugging Kid's arms around his waist and fastening the handcuffs again. "There should be gloves in the pockets." Hakuba suggested, pointing behind him. Conan nodded, passing up the helmet before digging in the long coat's pockets. He found them, then remembered the scarf and pulled it out as well, sliding between the two larger teens bodies to re-do the coat. He jumped down, passing the gloves to Hakuba.

"Keep the scarf." Hakuba suggested, pulling on the gloves. "It's going to get colder, the later it gets."

And Kid was shielded by Hakuba's body and the helmet, while Conan wasn't. Conan nodded, wrapping the long scarf around his head and neck before climbing back up into Hakuba's lap, hunkering down the best he could. It was an embarrassingly intimate position, now that he was paying attention to what they were doing, but holding on to a lax Kid didn't sound like much fun either.

He didn't care much for the option of being squished between Kid or Hakuba either.

Hakuba didn't say anything, just put up the kickstand and started the motorcycle back up. The engine vibrated under them, then Hakuba walked them backwards until he could reach the road, the three of them speeding down it again.

They had to take a side trip to get back to the roads that Conan knew to reach Samizu Kichiemon's mansion, but they arrived just before dark. There was no sign of any disturbances or visitors, although the place smelled more like mould than Conan previously remembered. They dismounted, Hakuba unfastening and carrying Kid inside and setting him on the stairs before pulling the motorcycle in as Conan did his best to obscure and hide their tracks in before joining Hakuba inside. The motorcycle was hidden in the shadow of the staircase inside.

"The whole house is booby trapped and there's a series of secret caves and hot springs below." Conan explained, lighting his watch and shining it on the stairs. He pressed down on the second stair, jumping back as the stairs suddenly turned into a ramp, leading to a stake filled pit at the base of the stairs. "We have to go up to go down if we want to hide in them."

"Alright." Hakuba stared down at the pit of spikes. There were new rotting fish corpses in addition to the skulls that had been there earlier. Conan pressed down on the fourth stair and they ramp shifted back into steps. Hakuba picked up Kid again, balancing him on his back. "Lead on, I'll follow."

"Okay." Conan nodded, jumping over the trick stair, shining the light back so Hakuba could avoid it as well. "Be careful of the spiders as well." Conan offered. "They're poisonous."

"Natural protectors." Hakuba muttered dryly and Conan nodded.

"Yeah. The trick to the place is that if you try to climb, you'll fall."

"So if you attempt to go down, you'll go up?"

"Something like that." Conan agreed. They passed by an indoor pond of still water that had a number of koi swimming around inside. A turtle had joined them, swimming around in circles. Hakuba eyed the fish with something like amusement.

"Watch your step." Conan pressed down on the right side of the floor, quickly stepping back as the wood swung backwards, chains appearing. "Elevator." He explained, stepping on.

Hakuba glanced around with wide eyes as he followed, catching his balance as the platform began to rise. "Can you see the Kid designing places like this?" He said with a bit of humour in his voice.

Conan thought about it. It was a little too easy, only possibly without the whole 'lethal' factor. Things like the mansion with the trick roof sounded like something that Kid would make. "Yeah." They just had to get him to live that long.

The platform lurched to a stop. "We're right under the roof." Conan explained. "Stay here or the caves?"

Hakuba glanced around the dark dank place. "We can use that as an escape route." He concluded and Conan turned to scrutinize him. Hakuba looked ready to drop. Literally.

"Okay." He agreed. "If you'll get Kid settled under that ladder, I'm gonna check the rest of the house."

"Alright." Hakuba agreed. He set Kid down on the floor, then sat down heavily.

"Just don't touch the ladder." Conan warned. "That'll open the trap door that will drop us down into the caves."

Hakuba warily glanced up at the ladder. "Got it."

Conan nodded and inspected the rest of the building. It seemed sound, even with the mould and moss growing on the timbers. He peered out the windows, not seeing any movement in the trees.

Satisfied, he snuck downstairs again. He pulled a thread free of his shirt, stringing it across the doorway and attaching it to some twigs and a pile of rocks, forming trip wire alarm. If it was tripped over, it would send the rocks tumbling across the ground.

If that happened, they could disappear into the caves.

He checked the rest of the house, leaving bits of loose debris that would be easy to trip over, to make noise. Not that the house was exactly silent, even his slight weight made the timbers groan. As he felt that they were as security as they could be for the night, he went back upstairs.

Hakuba had taken his long coat off the Kid, laying it out on the ground. Kid was resting on his left side, on the injured leg, with Hakuba curled around him like a big spoon, one arm wrapped around the Kid's waist, his own short coat draped over them like a blanket. Conan made a mental note that they needed to either get new trousers for the Kid, or to sew up the slice they'd put into the trousers leg, even just as a temporary measure.

With a sigh, he lay down next to Kid. Hakuba made a questioning grunt. "Just me." He whispered.

"Mmm." Hakuba dropped back off to sleep. Conan listened to their breathing for a few moments, then turned his back to the Kid, wiggling closer before pulling Kid's arm around him like a blanket. Kid wasn't as warm as the heat given off by Hakuba's hand, but he was still warmer than the ambient air.

He woke up a few times during the night to the moans and groans of the house, once for a small creature scampering across the floor, but slept fairly soundly for all that. When he finally woke up all the way, there were small beams of sunlight leaking in through the walls, illuminating the area. The water damage to the house was both worse and better than he feared, the house in musty greens and grays instead of browns.

Hakuba continued to sleep, looking like a member of the undead as his body caught up on much needed rest. Kid didn’t look like he had moved at all. Conan picked up Kid’s arm at the wrist, lifting it up into the air and letting it drop. It landed with a limp thud.

No lights, nobody home…

He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Breakfast, they needed to eat. And as he was currently the most physically fit member of their small group, at least until Hakuba got some more rest under his belt, it was up to him to find it.

Fortunately, he’d spent many hours in these woods, a few times when he was younger, and more often lately with Agasa and the Shonen Tantei.

He felt a pang, hoping they were okay. They should be, it was obvious that Genta, Mitsuhiko and Ayumi were good kids. And the trap had been set for Ran, not the kids, or they would have shown up.

Thank goodness for Vermouth’s fondness for Ran, or they probably wouldn’t have gotten out alive.

His heart lurched like it was trying to leap out of his body, aching like he was transforming back into Shin’ichi and he curled into a ball. She knew. Ran knew that Conan was Shin’ichi.

If he was incredibly lucky, she’d only drop kick him. At worse, she’d _cry_ at him. There was nothing worse than Ran crying. Especially over him.

He shook his thoughts off. Breakfast. They needed food. He could mope over Ran later.

Or mope and find food at the same time.

Be productive, at least.

-


	2. The Sun, Stars, and Moon pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday! So I give you fic! ... Yeah, never figured out how that worked either...

Conan rose and streached before wandering down the steps, skipping the fourth one. The floor made a hollow thump as he landed and he guiltily glanced up the stairs to see if he could hear Hakuba moving.

Silence.

Conan let out a small sigh and wandered outside. It was quiet, in a peaceful sort of way, instead of the oppressive silence that loomed in the presence of a predator.

They hadn’t had much time to wander around this particular part of the forest the last time they came to visit, and he’d been preoccupied with discovering the phone number to the mysterious organisation.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered aimlessly, the summer morning cool and humid. It’d warm up later, but now it was nice.

He found a mulberry bush with dark red berries, his stomach reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast the day before. He shoved some in his mouth, the juicy sweet-tart flavour exploding over his tongue. There were a few _enokitake_ mushrooms growing at the base and he ate a few of those until the edge of his hunger was off.

Glancing around, he found a plant with broad leaves and tore a leaf off, curving it around to form a bit of a basket. It didn’t hold much, but it was better than trying to carry the ripe berries in his pockets, and Hakuba would probably just has hungry, if not more.

Unfortunately, it was too late in the season for fern shoots. And they didn’t have a pot to boil what _sansai_ , or wild mountain vegetables he could find. And most of them required boiling, making a good soup, but not so good raw.

He found a wild ginger plant nearby and munched on the spicy _Myōga_ ginger blossoms, plucking as many as he could find and putting them in his coat pockets. There were _Asatsuki_ chives nearby as well, and he added those to his pockets.

There were bamboo shoots, just poking up out of the ground, but he didn’t have anything to cut it out of the ground with, much less slice the bamboo with, so he continued searching.

The real lucky find was a _nasu_ , eggplant vine with small purple fruit the size of his hand. It was growing in what looked like a former campsite, and he wondered if it had escaped someone’s lunch and grew, or grew there naturally. Either way, he was hungry and they’d be easy enough to grill over a small fire.

There were more edible plants and mushrooms around, like _Mitsuba_ Wild Chervil, _Shiso_ Perilla Leaves, and _Buna shimeji_ mushrooms, but they were mostly either garnishes or required cooking as well and he reluctantly left them be. A handful of lovely _shiitake_ mushrooms and couple of large _maitake_ mushrooms joined his bundle.

Satisfied, he walked back to the building, and went to wash his hands off in the pool. The water was cold and he hissed at the temperature, quickly shaking the water off his hands.

Movement under the water caught his eye. Not a koi, the movement was wrong. He narrowed his eyes, tracking the movement.

Unagi.

Eel. They could eat that, grill it over a small fire on skewers along with the eggplant and the mushrooms. Meat. Meat was good.

The question was, how to get the eel.

Conan set his makeshift basket down, piling the rest of the stuff from his pockets onto it. Looking around, he found a rock and rolled it over, grabbing a wiggling worm before it could escape underground.

Looking around, worm in fist, he tried to figure out something he could use for a hook. Eels were bottom feeders, but they liked worms just fine.

Nothing. No knife to carve something either.

He walked to the edge of the pond again peering in. If the eel got close enough, maybe he could grab it, scoop it up to shore.

“Here, eel eel eel eel.” He chanted under his breath, dipping the worm into the water. The worm writhed, trying to get free, sending ripples across the pond.

And attracting the attention of the koi. They swarmed over, looking for food, their giant round mouths opening and closing, like they were trying to eat his fingers. Conan recoiled, trying to think of a better way to get the eel.

The koi gave him annoyed baleful glares and drifted off, trying to find easier substance elsewhere. Conan glared back.

The eel swam by, as if taunting him with its curiosity. Conan glared at it too. It wandered back by, coming closer, as if looking for any scraps the koi might have left behind. Conan glanced around, and spotting no koi in the area, reached in and lightly wiggled his fingers along the surface of the water.

The eel moved closer, craning its neck to the side, uncertain. “C’mon…” Conan whispered. “Here little eel…” He reached out farther, fingertips just barely getting wet. “Come on up tasty little breakfast.”

It did, lurking just out of reach. “C’mon, c’mon…” Conan pleaded quietly as it slowly drifted closer.

The eel barely brushed his hand and he lurched forward, his fingers wrapping around the slimy flexible body. He yanked his arm backwards, flinging the eel behind him with a victorious cry.

Which turned into a shout of panic as he over balanced, the clump of grass and dirt on the pond’s edge crumbling under his hand and he fell face first into the water, losing the worm in the process.

The chill of the water was a shock and he flailed back up to the surface, gulping down air as he got his feet under him, the remains of the lanterns that had been tossed down just before his last visit.

He had _so_ not needed a bath.

A large gold and black spotted koi came up and poked him in the back of the knee, mouthing the fabric of his pants. He glared at the fish, which nudged him a few more times before meandering off, deciding he wasn’t food.

Stupid fish.

Conan started making his way out of the water when something suddenly shot past his leg, causing him to startle. He yelped, falling backwards yet again. Through the murky water, he could make out the slippery shapes of several eel go dodging by.

Okay. Since he was here and already wet, they were having more than one eel for breakfast.

He lunged at one, fingers just sliding on its slippery skin and he shot up to the surface of the water, glancing below him for their writhing lithe shapes. “Heeeeere, eel eel eel eel.” He chanted, walking slowly on the stones. He spotted movement and lunged at it, barely missing the dodging eels.

This continued for some time, diving in and out of the pond, various size eels slipping out of his grasp as they hid in the gaps and cracks of the rocks. The koi gave up and fled to the other side of the pond, a few brave ones coming back to circle occasionally.

He didn’t know how long it was before he finally got one, getting a good grip on a writhing body, tossing the eel onto the ground with a shout.

Only to realise that he wasn’t alone anymore.

A very groggy dishevelled Hakuba was standing a few metres away, staring at him with blurry eyes. “Uh…” Conan got out, trying to think of a logical, non-embarrassing, explanation for as to why he was in the water, cussing at eels.

“I could kill for a cup of coffee about now.” Hakuba slurred at him, then lurched off. Conan stared after. Not awake. Right. Good to know.

He climbed out of the water, shaking his head, spraying water in every which direction as he did so. Now that he was out of the water, his clothing was sticking to him uncomfortably. He shed his jacket, spreading it on the grass to dry, before untangling the knot of his laces. The wet laces didn’t want to come undone and he cussed at it until he could get his feet out.

Shoes set in the sun, he peeled off his pants and shirt, shivering a bit in just his wet underwear. He gathered up a few pieces of dry wood that was laying around, setting them next to a flat rock. Hakuba wandered back, yawning into a hand. “You wouldn’t happen to have matches, would you?” Conan asked. “And your knife?”

He got a bleary-eyed stare in return. Conan stared back, determined that his lack of clothing was _not_ going to embarrass him.

Then Hakuba yawned again, rubbing his eyes. “Upstairs.” He mumbled, holding up a very soaked handkerchief. “Need to water Kid first.”

Conan felt his face twist up in a expression of disgust. Handkerchiefs were for drying hands _after using the toilet_. Like Hakuba had presumably just done.

Hakuba’s expression seemed to shift, without changing his body language at all, as if a wall had gone up around the other detective, distancing him from his surroundings. "I carry more than one handkerchief.” Hakuba informed him, his tones distant and formal as he turned to walk away. “This one is clean.”

Conan faltered realising his silent implication, that he thought that Hakuba would do something so unhygienic to the Kaitou Kid. “Sorry.” He murmured, ducking his head.

Hakuba hesitated for a moment, then inclined his head in silent acknowledgement, continuing his progress into the building. Conan debated reminding Hakuba to watch out for the fourth step, then kept his mouth shut, not wanting to accidentally insult the other detective further.

He didn’t hear any noises or shouts, so he guessed that Hakuba made it inside okay. He poked at his shoes for a moment, listening to them squelch in disgust, then carefully made his way to the edges of the small clearing, gathering twigs and fallen branches to cook with. He piled them up next to the pond, pulling out the hollowed out stone that had been part of the lantern, setting it on the flat rock and put some of the twigs into it, forming a small pit for cooking.

Conan collected the make-shift basket of food and moved it next the fire pit, finding another flat stone to use as a table before washing the vegetables he’d gathered in the clearer water of the pond.

Hakuba silently rejoined him, holding a well polished zippo lighter in one hand. Conan set the food down on the flat rock and Hakuba tossed it to him. Conan snapped it open, pleased to see the flame flick to life before lighting the twigs. They caught and sputtered, the fire slowly spreading.

“What do you need the knife for?” Hakuba inquired, crouching down as Conan added some slightly bigger branches into the fire, building it up.

“I caught some eel for breakfast.” Conan motioned behind him, where one of the eel was still flopping around. “Do you know how to prepare them?”

“I spent a week helping out in a sushi shop for a case once.” Hakuba nodded, rising to his feet. He found and gathered the still wiggling eel, bringing them back over, along with a length of fallen bamboo. He set the eel down next to them, slicing the bamboo in half, and then into pencil thin strips, makeshift skewers. He took the eggplant and larger mushrooms, quickly cutting them into large bite-size pieces, resting them on the rock.

“If you would.” Hakuba motioned to the vegetables and the bamboo sticks as he mildly broke a crooked skewer in half.

“Of course.” Conan picked up a skewer and a piece of mushroom.

And then nearly stabbed himself as Hakuba abruptly drove the thin pointy stick in his hand through the eye of the eel, pinning the head to the ground. Hakuba didn’t change his placid expression as he proceeded to pull out his knife, slicing the eel’s throat, then running the blade down the spine of the still wiggling eel, slicing it down the middle.

The eel was opened flat, as if its stomach was a hinge, the intestines yanked out and tossed back into the pond. The blade was was pressed against the meat, the sharp edge removing the spine and bones from the meat of the eel, which were also thrown back into the pond. The body was then removed from the head and horizontally sliced into two pieces, which were threaded on to the skewers for cooking.

Hakuba offered Conan the prepared meat and he placed it on their makeshift grill. “You’re… ah… good at that.” Conan offered as the stake was pulled out of the first eel’s head and plunged into the second. He grabbed some of the eggplant and mushrooms, quickly making up a kabob and setting it on the side of the fire before making more.

“For my cover, they thought it would be _amusing_ to have the foreign boy prepare unagi.” Hakuba smirked slightly as he prepared the second eel. “Fortunately, as it has been stated, I am not squeamish, and do have some limited experience in both hunting and dressing my own kills.”

“So they got more than they bargained for.” One of Conan’s eyebrows rose.

“Precisely.” Hakuba said, not entirely without smug satisfaction as he neatly threading the flesh with the skewers. “The hardest thing to learn was the trick to holding an eel.”

“Oh?” Conan tilted his head to the side, wondering if he could get Hakuba to teach him how to do this sometime.

Hakuba held his hand out, middle finger extended. For a brief second, Conan thought he was being flipped off, then Hakuba placed an extra skewer under his middle finger, holding it trapped between it and his index and ring fingers. "They cannot wiggle away if you grasp them as such.” He explained. “The catch is being able to grab them like this on the first try.”

Conan mimicked the gesture and realised to his dismay that it would not work for him, his fingers were simply too short, even for the small eels he had caught.

“Eventually.” Hakuba assured him, passing him the skewers of meat which Conan placed over his small fire. He watched Hakuba methodically cleaning his knife with a fallen leaf before wiping it on a pants leg and folding it up. Conan realised, now that they weren’t in a crisis situation, that Hakuba’s knife was unusual. The blade was about twice the size to legally carry in Japan, about 10 centimeters long instead of the regulation 6 centimeters. While this was handy for preparing eel and cutting bullet resistant vests off of of thieves, Hakuba could be arrested for carrying it around.

Hakuba noticed his gaze and offered the folded pocket knife to Conan. He took it, admiring the workmanship, the mother of pear inlaid handle. This was not a cheap knife, that much was obvious. “You shouldn’t use this so openly.” He warned, handing the knife back.

He got a smirk in return, Hakuba opening the blade and offering it back, handle first.

‘ _From Commissioner Hakuba ~ For The Protection Of Himself And Others ~ To His Only Son Hakuba Saguru_ ’.

Included at the base was the emblem of the Metropolitan Police Commissioner.

“That’s not quite a permit.” Conan marvelled, handing the knife back, handle first as well. “But it’s close.”

“It is the one point of leeway my father gave me once he realised that I was not play acting as a detective.” Hakuba wiped the blade, obviously an ingrained reflex, and then folded it back up and put it back in his pocket. “There were several… incidents which led to the conclusion that a 2 inch blade was not adequate for this line of work, and a pistol is not currently plausible.”

The rules on owning and carrying a gun being even more strict than those for carrying a blade.

“Can you handle one?” Conan inquired, raising an eyebrow. It didn’t hurt to know the measure of Hakuba’s skills.

“Well enough.” Hakuba said dismissively. “Not a sharpshooter by any means, but I do generally hit what I aim at.”

Well enough need to know how to dress his own kills while hunting.

“You?” Hakuba inquired.

“Same.” Conan admitted, thinking of the few times he had handled, much less shot a gun. He winced, thinking of the scar along Ran’s leg where he had struck her to prevent her to continue being used as a hostage. He turned the eel over, pleased to note the roasted brown colour and delicious aroma. “Minus the hunting aspect.”

“I see.” Hakuba said non-commentally, neither expressing approval or displeasure at the fact. This was then broken up by a mighty yawn that made Conan’s jaw ache in sympathy.

“There’s no coffee, but I did find some berries.” Conan motioned back toward the rest of the food on the fern leaf. “Or you could always take a bath.”

Hakuba lifted up an arm and sniffed. “Not quite that bad yet, but soon.” He decided dismissively and Conan muffled a snicker. Hakuba shifted through the various foodstuffs before munching on the berries with an appetite that made Conan’s look minor in comparison.

“When was the last time you ate?” Conan inquired as Hakuba sorted through the wild plants.

“Sometime before the Kid’s heist.” Hakuba shrugged, shoving one of the _Myōga_ blossoms into his mouth. “It has been my experience it is better not to eat much before a heist.” Lots of running, Conan thought with some dark humour. Not a good idea on a full stomach. And there was occasional rare reaction to the knock-out spray.

“There may have been an anpan and a coffee afterwards at the station house.” Hakuba added with a rueful grimace. “I do not clearly recall.”

Again, not much of a surprise. Conan pulled the first eel off, handing the hot roasted meat to Hakuba as he put the second eel over the fire. It was slightly smaller than the first, and there was just enough room to cook a skewer of eggplant and mushroom on it too.

Hakuba offered Conan half of the eel and Conan shook his head. Hakuba nodded in response and appeared to inhale the eel, it disappeared so fast. Hakuba blinked, appearing almost comically surprised that the food was gone, his expression shifted to chagrined as he looked at the empty skewers.

“My apologies.” He set the bamboo strips down as if he had just committed a grave offense. “That was quite rude.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Conan waved it off, mentally assigning Hakuba more of the food at the moment, rather than dividing it in half. “I ate some stuff earlier. And I don’t eat as much as an adult.”

“Still.” Hakuba looked annoyed with himself. It was just prissy enough that Conan could see why Kid enjoyed teasing the blond.

Speaking of Kid…. “We need to figure out what to do from here.” He turned the topic to more serious matters, now that they were both awake and had food in their stomachs.

“We are going to require more bandages.” Hakuba said, his expression falling into something grim and determined. “I checked when I gave him water, none of his injuries are bleeding. I am uncertain as to if this is a good sign or bad, especially seeing as he would not swallow the small amount of water I attempted to give him.”

Conan briefly spared a thought as to if Hakuba had noticed that the Kid’s heart wasn’t beating, then dismissed it as a minor detail at the moment. “What else do we need?” He frowned.

“Other than medical necessities?”

“And coffee.” Conan nodded. He could use a bit of a pick-me up as well.

“Minor toiletries and a change of clothing would not go amiss.” Hakuba grimaced slightly. Conan glanced at his clothing drying on the grass and silently agreed.

“We have money, at least enough to get by for a little while.” Conan mused. “I suppose the question is do we run, or do we go aground?”

Both had their potential problems, especially if the mysterious organisation was going to be attempting to track them.

Hakuba frowned, pinching his chin with one hand, a finger curving under his lips. “I have an idea as to where to go, if you do not mind a bit of a boat ride.” He said after a moment. “Am I correct in guessing that anyone in your circle may already being unknowingly compromised?”

Conan frowned. “You are.”

Hakuba nodded. “Then we will use my contacts. I fear that it may not be as extensive as yours or my social base in England, but I believe that they shall suffice.”

“Then the question arises, how to contact them.” Conan pointed out. “Your mobile is most likely tapped.” And his were destroyed in the explosion.

“I left my phone at the police station.” Hakuba waved it off. “It is no problem. There are several gas stations and the like on the road. We can pick up limited supplies and place a phone call there.”

Conan nodded with some chagrin, realising that he had become accustomed to carrying his own portable means of communication. “Which direction were you are thinking of?” He asked.

Hakuba hesitated for a moment and Conan took the opportunity to turn the meat over. “South.” He finally said. “Not very far outside of Tokyo.”

A few hours drive, if they passed through Tokyo. He considered the amount of traffic cameras and the like on the Tokyo highways and grimaced. “And if we go around Tokyo?”

“More than a few hours.” Hakuba looked up at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. It wasn’t quite yet noon. “Do you wish to accompany me in placing the phone call? If so, do we wish to take him with us?”

“Can you navigate your way back here by yourself?” Conan asked, glancing at the Mansion where Kid slept. It didn’t make sense, juggling Kid on the cycle. They stood out too much like that.

“I believe so, yes.” Hakuba said placidly. He hesitated, looking intently at Conan. “Do you trust me not to willingly betray you?” Hakuba asked, almost hesitantly.

Conan startled, staring at Hakuba and the randomness of the question.

Except, it really wasn’t random. They were on the run, and neither he nor Hakuba knew each other all that well. They’d only met each other twice before, surrounded by other detectives. “I trust you not to betray him.” He said slowly.

Hakuba’s first priority was the Kaitou Kid, that much was obvious.

Hakuba nodded in return. “I too, trust you not to allow harm to come to him at this time.” Hakuba agreed. It was kind of funny, the way he said it, like he was one of those strange European knights in armour.

Talking about a damsel in distress. Who was the Kaitou Kid.

It took some effort to keep a straight face at that image. He offered Hakuba the skewer of roasted vegetables while he regained his composure and checked on the eel. It was done so he took it off, placing the rest of the veggies on the grill.

He had half of the roast eel, wishing he had some rice to go along with it, and convinced Hakuba to eat the other half. They split the rest of the vegetables equally, Conan placed a flat rock on top of their pit to smother the fire instead of pouring water over it to decrease the chance of accidentally sending up smoke signals.

Conan waved Hakuba away when he attempted to assist him in the cleaning up, sending him off to make his phone calls. Hakuba was slightly reluctant, glancing up at the attic space where Kid was resting as he pushed the motorcycle out of the clearing and back towards the road.

He waited for a little while after Hakuba had left before heading back up to the attic, checking on Kid. The thief was laying back on his back again, the scarf folded under his head like a pillow, hands resting at his side.

It was strange, watching the Kid so still. It made him uncomfortable. He checked that Kid was still breathing before going back downstairs, laying in the sun while he waited for his clothes to dry. There wasn’t anything he could think of to do in the meantime.

Except think.

He remembered Ran’s teary eyes as he ordered Hakuba to drive. He thought about the companionable nights on the rooftop with the Kid.

By all rights, he never should have become comfortable with the Kaitou Kid. The man was a thief. He stole, he lied — _occasionally_ — , and had the most obnoxious sense of humour ever.

And was strangely honourable for all that. Highly skilled, incredibly intelligent.

And could do things with his body that made physics weep.

The idea that someone had tried to destroy him, kill the Kaitou Kid made him shake in black rage. He was angry at the mysterious organisation for what they had done to him, what they had done to Haibara and countless others, the piles of needless deaths, but somehow this felt more personal.

He hadn’t known the others before they died. He hadn’t known Haibara back when she was Miyano Shiho. He knew Kid. Somewhat. Enough that they could tentatively called friends.

Enough that he trusted the thief when he didn’t trust many, including Ran.

He wished he could get in contact with Ran, or even Sonoko, make sure they were okay, that they were alive. But any means of communicating with them was most likely being watched, the mysterious organisation would find him through that. Or worse, find them.

Conan really hoped that none of them tried masquerading as him again. At least Ran knew the truth now, or suspected it.

Could she actually believe that he, in this tiny little body, was really her childhood friend? He grimaced, remembering all of her promises to knock his head off for being away so long. Heck, with the size he was, she could easily drop kick him into the atmosphere like they did in some anime.

… She was going to hate him for this. Over a year of hiding at her house, of lies, of being with reach but out of contact. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t claim ignorance of her feelings, not when they were so easily read.

He shook himself, realising that getting depressed about Ran wasn’t going to help. He checked his clothes, finding them sufficiently dry enough to put on. His shoes were a bit damp, but he ignored it, as he cleaned up the remains of breakfast, camouflaging the remains of their firepit before walking a spiralling perimeter around the house, both for more wild vegetables and to keep an eye out for any trouble.

When there was a lack of books around, he always did better having something physical to do.

Hakuba returned about an hour and a half later, pushing the motorcycle along. “I went west, to a crossroad.” He said as he parked the motorcycle. “The phone call was successful, we need to contact them again in another 72 minutes. I took the opportunity to refill the tank with petrol as well. And get these.”

Hakuba tossed Conan a packaged _onigiri_ and his stomach growled at the sight of the riceball.

“It’s _ume_ , I wasn’t sure if you were allergic to anything.” Hakuba added as Conan bit into tart pickled plum before wrapping the rice in the crackling dried seaweed.

“I’m not.” Conan swallowed quickly before speaking. “Don’t care much for raisins though.”

Hakuba seemed to absorb this information. “He can’t eat fish.” He said quietly, looking up towards the attic and once again, Conan felt a stab of jealousy again, at the depth of information that Hakuba knew.

“Your friend.” Conan quickly ate another bite. “Is he trust worthy?”

“He is a… mutual acquaintance.” Hakuba said, opening his own onigiri. “I trust him, especially considering his own brushes with less than savoury characters."

This made Conan’s eyebrow rise. “Ooh?”

Hakuba smirked. “You will understand when we contact him again.”

‘We’. It was the only reassuring part of that statement. Conan glared at him, which seemed to amuse Hakuba. “There is canned coffee in the saddle bags.” Hakuba said, his tone perfectly bland, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes.

Conan ignored the amusement and latched onto the coffee part. Trying not to look too eager, he walked over and opened the nearest saddle bag, finding a few cans of UBC coffee on top. It was cheap, a little too sweet sometimes for his taste, and was blessed blessed caffeine.

Conan opened the top and resisted the urge to guzzle it down. Instead he cradled it in his hands, taking small sips and relishing the familiar bitter flavour.

“I picked up more bandages while I was there, I will change them before we leave.” Hakuba continued. “We will need to figure out a way to disguise your presence if we are going to be passing through Tokyo again.”

The police would be looking for them as well, both his and Hakuba’s disappearance would have been noticed. And while the officers Conan personally knew had his best interests at heart, as Hakuba had already demonstrated, the police were compromised. Being put under protective custody, especially with a comatose thief, could sign their death warrants.

“If we put him in your jacket, I can hide under it.” Conan suggested. “There’s also the leather catsuit.” Which would probably do more to keep Kid’s bandages where they were supposed to be.

Hakuba thought it over, then nodded. “Would not be the first time he has worn women’s clothes.” He muttered, mostly to himself, before taking a large bite of his onigiri which effectively stuffed his mouth. Conan raised an eyebrow, wondering if Hakuba knew of Kid’s stint disguised as Ran.

“Do you need help with the bandaging?” Conan asked instead. Hakuba shook his head, which didn’t surprise Conan in the least.

“Thank you, but I can handle it.” Hakuba said, finishing his onigiri. He reached into the other saddle bag, pulling out a plastic bag of spray antiseptic, gauze and tape. He rummaged through the other one, pulling out the leather catsuit and giving it a shake before draping it over his arm, as if it were a dressing gown.

“The bandaging should take approximately 12 minutes, but I may require assistance with the catsuit.” Hakuba offered. Conan simply nodded his head and watched as Hakuba disappeared into the mansion.

It was almost amusing, if it wasn’t annoying, how territorial Hakuba was over the Kid. Conan looked down at his hands, his tiny, child-sized hands and sighed ruefully. It wasn’t like he could do much to help as he currently was anyway.

He balanced the saddle bags the best he could, leaving room for Hakuba’s trench coat on one side before heading back upstairs. There was enough light coming in from the dusty windows to be able to see easily enough.

Hakuba was kneeling next to the Kid, wrapping gauze around Kid’s tan shoulder, a small pile of bandages next to them. The Kid’s pants were completely gone, as was his shirt, leaving him in only a pair of white boxer shorts. He was surprisingly lean for someone who did what he did, all thin whipcord muscle, the suits and capes adding bulk that wasn’t there.

“He is forever skipping meals.” Hakuba’s gaze flickered over towards Conan, then back at his hands, steadily working. “Too much to do, he forgets to eat. And what he does eat, he burns it all away. He never stops moving.”

He could hear the annoyance in Hakuba’s tone, as if this were something Hakuba had endeavoured to remedy, only to have his attempts thwarted. He had a brief mental image of Hakuba trying to scold the Kaitou Kid like a fond grandmother trying to get a reluctant child to stop fidgeting and eat their vegetables.

Conan nodded, remembering the one time he saw Kid as Kuroba. Kuroba moved like there was a fire in his belly, something untamed inside of him that was constantly burning to get out.

Which was an amusing contrast to the Kid, who could do cool and motionless, serene and unflappable as moonlight.

Hakuba taped the last bit of gauze down, leaning the Kid back down. “There was no bleeding.” Hakuba reported. “Although I am not certain if that is a worrisome sign or not. However, I do believe I will require your assistance getting the leather on to him. I believe your mother and he appear to be of similar size, abet different proportions.”

Conan raised one eyebrow, eyeing the pile of black leather, mentally comparing his mother to Kid. Kid was definitely lacking in the cleavage section.

Getting the leather on to Kid involved a lot of holding and tugging, and cursing that this would be easier with talcum powder. In the end, the leather catsuit was baggy in the hips and the front, but tight in the shoulders. Hakuba noted this with a frown. “There wouldn’t have happened to be any feminine supportive garments in the saddlebags, would there?” Hakuba inquired.

“I didn’t see any bras, no.” Conan shook his head, remembering the one time he had woken up to a motorcycle ride and definitive proof that his mother did _not_ wear ‘feminine supportive garments’ while wearing her motorcycle leathers. There was only one pair of breasts he was interested in waking up next to, and they definitely did not belong to Kudo Yukiko.

Hakuba sniffed, then shrugged, as if it would have to do. “Shall we?” He inquired, picking up the Kid. Conan rose to follow, then looked at the scraps of the white pants, something catching his attention.

“Where is his gun?” Conan frowned. “The cardgun.”

“Small of my back.” Hakuba motioned with a tilt of his head behind him. Now that Conan was aware of it, he could see the outline of it under Hakuba’s shirt. "His spare decks of cards, a line of handkerchiefs, a few flash and smoke bombs and a canister of sleeping gas are my jacket pockets.”

As well as the monocle. All the proof required to prove who the Kaitou Kid was, Hakuba was carrying on himself.

Hakuba appeared to pick up on his rain of thought. “I thought he might like them.” He said, shifting the Kid to a more comfortable position as he turned to walk away. “When he woke up again.”

“Oh.” Conan had to stop trying to figure out Hakuba’s motivations when it came to the Kid. He kept getting them wrong. He gathered up the trench coat, then the bandages and remains of the pants as well. They could dispose of them on the way, leave less evidence of their passing.

Hakuba had Kid propped up on the motorcycle by the time he got down. “Is there a way you wish to ride?” He inquired.

“Yeah.” Conan nodded, shoving the fabric scraps into the fuller saddle bag, the huge coat into the other. He climbed up in front of Kid, pulling out the suspenders again. “Clip these ends together behind us.” He instructed, handing the blond a pair of loose ends. “And then we can camouflage it with the coat.”

It left Hakuba without protection from the wind, which was the only flaw in the plan. It was warm enough that he really didn’t _need_ the coat, but the wind could be bad too. There was a reason why Hattori wandered around in lots of denim, considering the amount of time he spent on a bike.

Hakuba did so, buttoning the coat up around Conan, leaving the middle buttons opened so Conan could poke his head out and breathe, before putting the helmet on Kid. Hakuba climbing on to the bike while wearing a bike helmet was a bit tricky, given the limited vision and the Kid’s boneless lax weight behind Conan, but they managed it with a bit of swearing.

The other loop of the suspenders was fastened around Hakuba, who re-handcuffed Kid’s arms around him again, pinning Conan securely between the two. If there was an accident, or they got thrown off the bike, they’d do so together.

“Ready?” Hakuba asked, starting up the motorcycle. The Harley let out a powerful purr, vibrating happily beneath them.

“Yeah.” Conan nodded his head, hair scraping against Hakuba’s back. He made a mental note that both Hakuba and Kid needed a bath sometime soon. They didn’t smell bad exactly, faintly of sweat, blood, deodorant, and very, very male. The cardgun pressed up against his chest was both uncomfortable and reassuring.

He had his dart watch, his shoes, suspenders, voice changer bowtie and inflatable ball belt buckle. They’d gotten him out of trouble before, and they could so so again.

Conan hesitated, looking down at his coat. His tracer stickers… they were still attached to the buttons of his coat. He usually didn’t think about them, the only things that he knew could trace them were the glasses.

Which he’d left behind.

Shit.

He peeled the stick off his button and stared at it, thinking that it was ironic something so small could compromise them.

So… small…

Where else could a sticker like this fit? Haibara was notoriously paranoid, it wouldn’t surprise him at all if she had added similar trackers to the rest of his gadgets while he’d brought them for maintenance. Something like this could be added to the the insole of his shoe and he’d never know it.

And he’d thrown down his glasses. If he was lucky, Sonoko’s guards had grabbed them. If he was unlucky, some other people dressed in black had.

… Actually, if Sonoko’s guards had grabbed them, it wasn’t necessarily lucky, it meant that Sonoko could track him, and the mysterious organisation was probably tracking her, now that he’d put her on the playing field to protect Ran.

He poked Hakuba on the back, causing the blond to glance backwards. “I may have compromised us.” He shouted, holding up the button. The helmet didn’t allow him to read the blond’s expression, but the tilt of the head radiated curiosity.

“It’s alright.” Hakuba assured him, then they hit the paved road and Hakuba poured on the speed, the wind brushing past too fast for them to converse. Conan yelped, trying to find purchase to hold on to and ended up grabbing the back of Hakuba’s shirt, pressing close. The press of their bodies was almost claustrophobic, he couldn’t see around the movement of the bike and the motion of their bodies.

…. What did he mean ‘it’s alright’?!

Conan growled in annoyance to himself, wiggling around until he could get to his watch. He took it off, fingers probing it. He couldn’t see, but he could feel, double check. He’d left the watch at Agasa’s place a few weeks ago, for a tune up, it’d been shooting to left a little.

The back of the watch wasn’t smooth metal, but plastic. Fingernails scratching at the back, he peeled off a tracer sticker.

It could be nothing, he knew. Haibara making sure, in her own paranoid way, that she always knew where he was. But right now, that was the worst thing possible.

He’d have to take the watch and shoes apart, make sure there was nothing else was stuck to it. Or ditch them entirely.

Dammit.

Conan didn’t like the idea of being helpless. He wasn’t precisely defenseless without his gadgets, not really, not when his greatest weapon was his mind, but they certainly _helped_.

He leaned against Hakuba again and tried to figure what to do next. As far as adventures went, this one sucked.

They drove for almost an hour, the glimpses he got of the scenery changing from forest to the rice fields, flashes of sparkling rivers, to large menacing manufacturing buildings and back to twisting curving forests.

Hakuba slowed, then stopped, leaning forward to unfasten the suspenders and Conan glanced around. They were in a side alley somewhere. Small town, from the looks of it, lacking the shadows of the taller buildings.

The other detective pulled off his helmet, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a mobile phone. “Burn phone.” Hakuba explained as he flipped it open. “While we were in the mansion, there was no signal.”

No signal meant that it was unlikely anyone could have traced him from any sort of distance. So they had been safe there, he hadn’t compromised them.

But if they were on the grid now, that meant that they could be being tracked right now.

Hakuba motioned to a small shopping centre across the way. “We’ll need windbreakers, both of us. Do you mind disguising yourself as female?”

“Not for short periods of time.” Conan pressed the button on the suspenders, the band getting looser, giving him some slack. He used it as a handle to climb out from between them. He was a bit wobbly on solid ground, having adjusted to the constant movement of the bike. Hakuba pulled out a wallet and handed him some small and medium bills.

“Get what you need for the short term.” Hakuba instructed. “We’ll get more clothing later, when we get there.”

“Alright.” Conan agreed. “Lunch?”

Hakuba checked the clock on the mobile. “Is another half-hour acceptable?”

“Okay.” Conan agreed, putting the money in his pocket. “Be back in ten.”

Hakuba nodded, refastening the belt around him to keep Kid connected to him, then lean forward against the handlebars with an air of wary exhaustion.

Conan walked across the street, keeping an eye on traffic and walked into the small shopping area. He didn’t see any black cars, and hoped that the mysterious organisation hadn’t wised up to the fact that having them colour scheme helped tip him off to who was working for them.

He found a fairly cheap clothing department, grabbing a grey hat with pink and burgundy hearts and a cream pom-pom he thought Ayumi would have loved, and a dark red windbreaker that was a just a little bit too big, which helped cover his legs. A plain white t-shirt joined the pile.

After a moment of indecision, he grabbed a pair of cheap tan boots that fit reasonably well. He’d really grown fond of his red trainers.

For Hakuba, he grabbed a navy windbreaker, then brought his purchases up to the counter, doing his best ‘innocent little kid’ act, bubbling about going camping in the forest, that maybe he and his friends would be the first to find a kabuto beetle. The lady at the counter smiled indulgently at him as she rang him up, looking like she wanted nothing more than to pat him on the head before he left.

Thankfully, he escaped that indignity, waving goodbye as he left the store. He walked down a few stores, finding a different way out than he did in, taking a circular route back to the bike. The longer they were here, the more chance someone had of tracking them down.

Hakuba looked at him as he came in, expression hidden behind the helmet. “There may be tracking devices in some of my clothing.” Conan said, setting the plastic bag down. “Just a moment.”

“We have a police officer that thinks we are interesting.” Hakuba reported, turning his attention back towards the mouth of the alley. “You may wish to hurry.”

Conan pulled his shirt over his head, then peered around the bike. “Shit.” He cursed, as he spotted the man in the charcoal suit talking to the lady he’d bought the clothing from. Conan ripping the tags off the plain white shirt and tugged it on as fast as he could.

“Bad?” Hakuba tensed.

“I know him.” Conan growled, kicking off his shoes, hopping on one foot so as not to put his white socks on the ground. “Detective Yamamura of Gunma Prefecture.”

Which meant that either Yamamura had some of the weirdest luck, or they really were being tracked.

Yamamura glanced in their direction and Conan realised that in the shadows, the forest green shirt Hakuba was wearing looked black. Black helmet, black bike, dark clothing… if the police were searching for them, Hakuba probably looked like a suspicious character.

“Good or bad?” Hakuba inquired.

“Bit of both.” Conan grunted, untying the laces of his other shoe. "Think Mouri, only worse.”

Hakuba grunted. “Joy.”

“I have an idea.” Conan shoved the dark windbreaker into a saddlebag. He turned the windbreaker inside out, the white flannel side showing instead of the red, then added the hat, putting his bowtie, shirt, sneakers and wristwatch in the plastic bag. He refused to be paranoid about his underwear or shorts. “Be right back, and be prepared to roll.”

Hakuba nodded, reaching forward and starting up the bike again, the low rumble filling the alley the warning growl of an irate tiger.

Shoving the hat on his head, he grabbed his clothing and ran across the street, heading straight up to Yamamura. “Hi Oniichan!” He chirped, pitching his voice up, making it as cutesy as he could as he offered the plastic bag to Yamamura. “Yoko-chan found dis bag! A boy dropped it!”

Part of him cringed at the act, mimicking Ono Yoko’s speech the best he could. He probably should have thought of a better fake name, but it was the first one he could think of.

“Why thank you, young lady-” Yamamura said, leaning down to take the bag. Conan giggled behind one hand, then waved, running away. Hakuba had the motorcycle moving by the time he was in the street, grabbing Conan with one arm and setting him down in front of him again.

“Gun it.” Conan growled, ducking low as Yamamura squawked in the distance. Hakuba did, dodging through the traffic, signs saying they were heading south on the 462, leaving Isesaki.

Knowing Yamamura, anyone tracking him through the devices would soon find themselves at the Gunma Prefecture Police Department in Maebashi, or back in Tokyo. Somehow, Conan didn’t mind this at all.

Once they crossed the Tome River, Hakuba slowed down. “That was risky.” Hakuba informed him bluntly.

“Anyone else, I wouldn’t try it.” Conan assured him. “And it got rid of anything with tracking devices.”

Hakuba merely snorted, turning his attention back to the road. He turned off fifteen minutes later in Midori, driving around until he found another shopping centre and parked in the shadows again. “I’ll need you to keep an eye on him.” Hakuba announced, disconnecting himself from Kid and dismounting.

“Okay.” Conan nodded, scooting back to take Kid’s weight. Hakuba took of his helmet and attached to the side.

“I will call once I get back.” Hakuba informed him. “I will return shortly.”

“Alright.” Conan agreed, settling back against the Kid’s solid body. “We’ll be here.”

While driving the motorcycle was theoretically possible, he did not want to turn that into practise. Hattori’s little light weight 400cc did not compare to the 1,500cc of the Harley’s powerful engine.

The area was quiet, very little traffic, although Conan did flinch when he heard the blare of police sirens zooming by. Hakuba returned thankfully quickly, a small paper bag in his hand.

“Anything to report?” Hakuba inquired as he opened the bag, pulling out a box of brush-in temporary hair dye. He pulled the gloves on, leaning down to check his appearance in the side mirror. “This will take but just a moment.”

“Nothing.” Conan watched as Hakuba methodically brushed the dark brown dye into his hair.

“I will get a box of more permanent dye later.” Hakuba said. “This will wash out. But they are undoubtedly looking for a blond.”

“Logical.” Conan agreed. With a spark of mischief he added in a little girls voice. “Does this make you my oniichan?”

Hakuba froze, glaring at Conan in the reflection of the mirror, as if to silently say that yes, it was entirely within the realm of possibility for Hakuba to drop kick Conan off the nearest tall building.

Conan smirked back. Hakuba resumed the dying process. “Am I missing any sections?” He inquired, turning his head to the side after a minute.

“Give me the brush.” Conan held his hand out, leaning forward, Kid slumping forward after him. “It’s a bit paler back here.” He explained, brushing in a little bit more dye until the colour was even.

“Thank you.” Hakuba said with a tilt of his head, peeling the gloves off. “It needs to dry for a few minutes.” He said, putting the used gloves and bottle into the bag with the box of dye. Conan added the brush, then took the bag.

“I’ll throw this out.” Conan said, sliding off the motorcycle. Hakuba slung an arm around the Kid, keeping him from following Conan. Conan jogged to the end of the side alley, finding a trash can and quickly tossing it in before turning back.

Hakuba had the mobile phone in hand, clearly waiting for him. He was wearing the dark blue windbreaker, the change in clothing and hair making him look different, almost dangerous. Conan climbed back up onto the motorcycle, re-fastening himself to Kid as Hakuba hit ‘send’.

He was not expecting what came out of Hakuba’s mouth. "Efternuin, Mr. Mogi. It’s me, Hamish, toochin' base wi’ ye. Everythin' clear oan yer end?”

It was English, but not as Conan knew it. Not American or British, some other dialect, with broader consonants and loud vowels.

Hakuba nodded a few times, grunting as the guy on the other end spoke quickly in English. “Alrecht. We’re headin' it noo. Thenk ye huir uv a much fur th' assistance. An' gie yer brammer quine cheers frae me an aw. Bide safe. Cheers again. Slainte.”

He hung up with a click of the phone. “We’ve got our residence.” He said in his usual smooth Japanese.

“Mogi?” Conan questioned. “Mogi Harufumi? From the Twilight Mansion?”

“We’ve stayed in contact with each other. He needed some local help on a recent case and I was able to give him assistance, he just returned the favour.” Hakuba said, testing the strands of dyed hair with his fingers. “The accent is merely an extra precaution. You should hear my Scouse.”

Of course. Hakuba spent a great deal of time in England, travelling all over. He probably knew several dialects of English, the better to blend in. People, no matter where they were, didn’t tend to trust travellers quite as much as someone who at least appeared to be local.

“Okay, I understand that.” Conan said as Hakuba carefully put the helmet on over his newly darkened hair before climbing back on. “But ‘Hamish’?”

Hakuba turned to give him a stern look before cuffing Kid’s arms back around him, hiding Hakuba from view. “You, of all people, I would think should get the reference.” Hakuba said loftily, some of his usual arrogance coming the fore as he fastened the suspenders around his waist as well. “It is what Dr. Watson’s second wife calls him.”

Conan almost groaned. Of course. Because ‘John’ would be too obvious, especially considering that Hakuba had carried his hawk Watson with him the the that they had all met, Mogi included.

The motorcycle gave it’s triumphant growl as Hakuba started it up again, then they were on the street again, heading onto a highway. Once again, Conan got glimpses of flat rice patties, and the brush of the mountains. They weren’t taking the Kan-etsu Expressway towards Tokyo, instead they were taking some of the smaller highways.

His brain ran in circles for a little while, trying to figure out where they were going, what they were going to do when they got there. What they were going to do past that, how they were going to defeat the mysterious organisation. How to heal the Kaitou Kid. How long would it be before he woke up.

He drifted off at some point, waking up only when the motorcycle slowed down and came to a slow halt.

Caution held his tongue until Hakuba took off his helmet, freeing himself. “Where are we?” He asked with a yawn.

“We’re in Atsugi, Kanagawa Prefecture. Approximately halfway there.” Hakuba stretched his arms over his head, vertebrae popping. “It’s been three hours, twenty-six minutes and thirty seconds since we left Gunma, we still have another three hours twenty-five minutes to go. It would have cut two hours off if we took the toll express roads, but I am avoiding them for obvious reasons.”

“Yeah.” Cameras.

“I do not know about you, but I am hungry.” Hakuba said, rising from the bike. He hissed as he stood, as if adjusting to being on his own two feet again.

“Where are we going anyway?” Conan moved his arms and legs, realising how stiff he was.

“Shizuoka. We have a boat waiting for us.” Hakuba lifted up Kid and Conan let out a yelp as he realised he was still attached. Hakuba’s eyes went wide as he set Kid down against the wall, hidden behind the motorcycle. “My apologies.”

Conan waved it off. What was a little bit of embarrassment while on the run for your life?

“Do you wish to get food, or shall I?” Hakuba asked, raising the visor on Kid’s helmet. It looked like Kid was merely asleep. It was kind of freaky.

“I will.” Conan swallowed.

Hakuba nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll see if I can’t get more water into him.” The worry was plain to see on the other detective’s face. Conan nodded and ducked away.

There was a Lawson’s Convenience Store around the corner and Conan walked in, heading straight towards the back for the bento boxed meals. He grabbed a chicken yakitori for himself and a beef gyudon bowl for Hakuba, figuring that the larger man could use the extra protein. He’d share the vegetables from his boxed meal with Hakuba.

They were going to get sick of these boxed meals before too long out. Not that he could think of a better solution. Cooking, other than toast, really wasn’t one of forte. He wondered if Hakuba could cook. At least, he hoped so.

He picked up a couple more onigiri, figuring they’d last at least a little while without refrigeration, then paid for his purchases.

Hakuba was still kneeling next to Kid, a worried look on his face. "Still not taking water?” Conan asked, sitting on Kid’s other side.

“No.” Hakuba said grimly. “We may have to scrap this plan and get him to hospital.”

Conan under Kid’s chin, pressing his fingers against the carotid artery. Still no pulse. The skin was warm and the reassuring whoosh of his breath continued. Not dead. “His status hasn’t changed.” Conan remarked, reaching into the bag and passing Hakuba the gyudon.

Hakuba grunted his thanks, digging into the rice bowl as if someone was about to take it away from him. Conan saw the logic behind this and dug into his food as well, eating until he was pleasantly full and passing the rest over to the other detective.

Hakuba’s eyebrows rose. “Small stomach, remember?” Conan shrugged. Hakuba nodded and inhaled the rest of Conan’s meal.

Food done, Conan stashed the onigiri in the saddlebag and went to throw the trash out as Hakuba put the helmet back on Kid, settling him on the motorcycle again. “Ready?” Hakuba inquired as Conan climbed back on.

Not really. “Yeah.” He nodded as they connected themselves to each other again. “You’re not going the speed limit, are you?” He inquired. He had an odd mental image of Hakuba as one of those who had to drive precisely the speed limit, or just under.

“7 kilometers over when there’s no traffic.” Hakuba glanced over his shoulder. “Anything over that and we’re more likely to be pulled over.”

Conan nodded. As long as Hakuba wasn’t driving recklessly, most cops would just let them pass. “Thanks.”

Hakuba nodded, pulling the visor down and they were off again.

Conan tried staying awake this time, planning strategy, but soon got bored and drifted off again, lulled by the sound of the motors and the press of the bodies.

When he woke up again, it was night time and he could smell the ocean. “Hakuba?” He questioned, shifting his limbs.

“We have arrived.” Hakuba glanced back at him. “Ready for a boat ride? Should not take more than an hour.”

“Yeah.” He yawned, rubbing an eye. Hakuba nodded and dismounted, Kid’s weight slumping against Conan. Conan made a face and propped him up. Stupid heavy thief.

“I will return momentarily, I am going to procure our ride.” Hakuba informed him seriously. He was nervous, Conan realised. Hakuba did well to hide it, but if their contact was untrustworthy, they were screwed.

“We’ll be here.” Conan promised. He could probably haul the Kid off the bike if needed to, but he doubted he could move the Kid all that far. Hakuba nodded and strode off.

Conan glanced around, analysing the area for likely places to be ambushed from, and places to hide.

Oh, look. Dumpster.

Hakuba returned shortly, an odd quirk to his eyebrows. “It appears Mogi-san did us one better than chartering us a ride.” He said, kicking the kickstand back up and began pushing the motorcycle with them still on it. “He bought us a small vessel of our own.”

Conan’s eyebrows rose. “What kind of favour did he owe you!”

“Nothing that extreme.” Was Hakuba’s annoying bland reply. “I believe he is… concerned.”

Conan snorted. yeah. He was too. Just a bit.

“The cover story is that an elderly novelist is looking for a quiet place to rest over the holidays while working on their latest story.” Hakuba said quietly. “She is taking along her son and granddaughter, to escape the chaos of Golden Week.”

Which started in a week and a half. They were damn lucky that this hadn’t happened over Golden Week, or they never would have been able to get out of Tokyo.

“So I’m the granddaughter?” Conan questioned with a grimace. It was bad enough being _short_.

Hakuba glanced over his shoulder. “They will be looking for two men and a boy. As I cannot pass for female, despite previous attempts, it is logical.” With the tired shadows under Hakuba’s eyes, and hair partially slicked back from the helmet, Hakuba appeared a few years older than he actually was. Old enough to have a small child.

“True.” Conan nodded, seeing Hakuba’s point. It was a severe pity that Kid was not awake, his mastery of disguise would come in most handy right now. Although now he was curious about Hakuba’s ‘previous attempts’ to disguise himself as a woman.

“Although I doubt anyone is gonna mistake him for an old woman right now.” He added, motioning with his head to the leather clad Kid behind him.

Hakuba startled. “You are correct.” He murmured, putting the kickstand down again. “Apologies.”

He’d been in a hurry to reach the boat. Conan shrugged, adjusting to the tilt. They took off the suit coat, changing it for Hakuba’s old trenchcoat, winding the scarf around Kid’s head, as if ‘Grandma’ was cold.

Not that it was extremely cold, but being this close to the ocean, he knew he was going to be grateful for the windbreakers. And the warm hat, even if it was pink-ish.

A man approached them as they reached the docks, one that Conan was surprised that he recognised. It was the guy who’d ferried them to the island for the Detective Koushin.

“I see you found your mother.” The man said cheerfully. “And is this your little daughter?”

Conan leaned backwards against Kid, wrapping one of Kid’s arms around him, like his ‘grandmother’ was hugging him.

“You’ll hafta forgive her, both she and Okan are tired from travellin'.” Hakuba said with a fairly passable Kansai-ben accent. Another way to throw people off the scent.

“Just a little farther.” The man said, patting Conan’s head. He resisted the urge to bite the offending hand, pressing himself closer to Kid’s bulk.

“Thanks.” Hakuba nodded. “Give me a moment to get Okan to the boat and y’can take the bike.”

“It’s a lovely bike.” The man said. “I’ll keep her out of the salt air.”

“Thanks.” Hakuba repeated with another nod. He pushed the bike and the man got out of the way. They walked to the end of the small dock where a good sized motorboat waited. Hakuba parked the bike before ‘helping Grandma’ into the boat, Conan assisting, propping Kid up as they sat on the water-resistant seats. He watched as Hakuba pushed the bike back to the man.

“Thanks again for stockin’ the place.” Hakuba said with a tired grin. “I know we’re all lookin' forward ta the peace and quiet.”

“No problem.” The man waved it off. “If you need anything else, there’s a working radio in the garden shed, it’s brand new and I checked it myself.”

-New from necessity, Natsuki had smashed the old one.

Hakuba nodded, disconnecting the saddlebags from the back and slinging them over his shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind. Y'have a good night now.”

“You too. Travel safe.” The man pushed the motorcycle away. Conan watched him leave as Hakuba wandered back, the picture of relaxed nonchalance.

“I should have checked previously with you about the bike.” Hakuba murmured as he climbed in, setting the saddle bags next to Kid. “My apologies.”

“We can’t take it with us.” Conan said with a shrug as he watched the man push the bike into a shed and then cover it with a bright blue tarp. Not with the bike weighing more than the three of them together. There was no way to get it out of the boat once they got it in. And hopefully it would be well taken care of.

“Still.” Hakuba climbed into the driver’s seat. “Is this plan acceptable to you? Staying here?”

“Where a murder happened?” Conan questioned with a wry twist of his lips. “It’s fine. If I avoided places where things happened, I’d never be able to anywhere at all.”

Hakuba snorted, the cut off sound of white might have been a chuckle. Conan snickered for a moment before sobering again

“Really, all I care is that it’s relatively safe and secure.” Conan admitted. He didn’t think they were followed, but he’d still be paranoid for a while. The guy that had stocked the house had given up their location before. Granted, it had taken quite a few judo throws by Mouri, but he’d squealed. The mysterious organisation was a great deal scarier than Mouri. “If you’re too tired to pilot, I can take over for a bit.”

Hakuba gave him an odd look and Conan shrugged. “My father taught me in Hawai’i.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Hakuba murmured as he started up the boat and they pulled away from the small port. Conan shivered at the cool wind and the spray, pulling the hat tighter over his ears.

“There are many small villages in either direction along the coast.” Hakuba raised his voice to talk. “Tomorrow we can worry about more bandages and clothing.”

Conan nodded, making a note to pick up some hair extensions. If he was going to be stuck dressing like a girl, then he was going to be a _cute_ girl, dammit. A cute girl in boys clothing.

They travelled in silence the rest of the way, the roar of the motor, wind, and waves prohibitive towards conversation. The island seemed to loom upon them, a dark mass against the stars and the waning moon.

“Wow.” Conan said quietly as Hakuba cut their speed, gliding up to the small pier.

“Indeed.” Hakuba agreed, the boat coasting to a near stop. Conan jumped out, Hakuba tossing him the line and Conan grabbed it, wrapping the rope around a post, anchoring it. Hakuba killed the engine, the boat just bobbing in the water.

Hakuba looked up at the trail leading to the house with tired eyes. Still a ways to go. “I’ll get the saddlebags.” Conan offered. Hakuba nodded and sighed, standing up in the bobbing boat and grabbing the bags, tossing them up on the pier before picking up the Kid. The boat rocked dangerously at the shift in weight, and Conan had a tense moment as he waited for Hakuba to find his balance.

“We are good.” Hakuba said harshly. Slowly, he made his way over to the side, setting Kid down on the wood before climbing up after him. The boat bobbed in their wake.

Conan stared at him for a moment, then looked up the dock to the dirt trail that lead to the house. “Almost there.” He assured Hakuba. “I’ll scout ahead.”

“Thank you.” Hakuba nodded, placing Kid on his back. It only made sense, Conan was faster and a lot more mobile than Hakuba was at the moment.

He grabbed the saddle bags, then ran up the path, then ducked off to the side to check for hidden watchers, grateful for the nearly-full moon’s illumination as he scouted around. The prickly sensation on the back of his neck that denoted when someone was watching him wasn’t present and his gut said they were alone on the island.

Conan checked anyway, paranoia having him do several laps around the house, checking on the radio in the shed. He turned it on, listening to the sound of fishermen calling back and forth as they did some night catches in the seas around them before turning it off again, content that it worked.

He investigated the house next, finding it recently aired out but not cleaned, a thin layer of dust coating the floor and gathering in the corners. There was an obvious path where someone had been through, opening the windows to let the sea breeze in. He checked the kitchen, finding the pantry full of canned foods, there was enough to keep them well feed for at least a couple of weeks.

After a brief thought, he went and verified that they had a can opener too. They did, an antique rusted looking thing that still worked when he turned the handle.

He heard Hakuba before he saw him, the weary wheeze of the burdened giving him away as he opened the front door. 

"We have food." Conan reported, trotting over to him, motioning him towards the stairs. "Bedrooms are up the stairs. Any preference on rooms?"

"Something with a window facing south." Hakuba said wearily and Conan nodded, quickly mentally scrolling through the rooms. Thankfully, this left out the room that Tokitsu had died in. He ushered Hakuba down to the end of the hall, opening up the big bedroom. Hakuba staggered over to the bed and set Kid down with a noise that sounded like a cross between a groan and a sigh. 

"Bandages. Shower. Sleep." Hakuba muttered resolutely to himself, running a hand over his face, pushing his fringe out of his face. 

"Be right back." Conan dashed out into the hallway. He ran back downstairs, grabbing the saddle bags and bringing them back up. Hakuba had stripped the Kid in the meantime, checking the wounds. 

"No change." Hakuba sounded confused. "No fresh blood." 

With the amount of movement they had done today, there should have been at least some. "Go take a shower." Conan urged, pulling out clean bandages. "I can take care of this."

Hakuba almost looked affronted for a moment, before letting out a deep breath. "No. I have got it." He said wearily. "I may require assistance."

"Of course." Conan nodded. Between the two of them, they had the bandages removed, wounds cleaned of what little debris there was, and re-patched. Hakuba was starting to wobble slightly, not arguing with Conan when he said he would handle the clean-up. 

A pair of sweatpants tucked over one arm, Hakuba wandered down the hall into the bathroom. Belatedly, Conan wondered if there was soap or shampoo in the bathroom, then decided it really didn't matter. If Hakuba did more than a quick wash, he'd be surprised. 

He wrestled the covers down to the end of the bed by the time Hakuba stumbled out of the shower, immediately walking over to the bed and collapsing next to the Kid. Without a word, he pulled the covers up over the two of them and promptly passed out, face down on the pillow. 

Conan watched them for a minute, Kid face up, Hakuba face down with a slight feeling of amusement. Then he shook his head, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. 

There were still many hours until sunrise, he'd keep watch until then.


	3. The Sun, Stars, and Moon pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to Hakuba Saguru!!!  
> Was gonna try to have this done and posted today, but when it hit 14,000 words, decided that yeah, we'll just do it in four chapters...

After the flurried panic of their escape to the small island, the next couple of days were nearly anticlimatic. The island was quiet and dull, a contrast to the way that both Hakuba and Conan were keyed up, constantly looking over their shoulders as they set up camp.

Both of them caught up on sleep, Hakuba's exhausted body finally paying the price for pushing his limits the days before. For the most part, Hakuba was a heavy sleeper, but he'd occasionally wake at the smallest thing, patrolling the island before settling down to sleep some more. Conan took to napping whenever Hakuba was awake, the two of them keeping silent vigil. 

On the third night, he was jolted awake from a nap on the couch by a panicking Hakuba. 

“I killed Kid.” Hakuba explained, his eyes round like saucers, skin pale, and shaking. He was _terrified_. 

Conan yawned, rubbing his eyes. “What?” He demanded, brain switching tracks from ‘they’re under attack’ to ‘there’s something seriously wrong about Hakuba in general’. 

“There’s no pulse.” Hakuba was almost breathless, his hands shaking. “Kid has no pulse. I must have done something wrong, messed up...”

“He’s fine.” Conan shook his head. “He doesn’t have one.” 

“I... what?” Hakuba slowly calmed down, regaining control. 

“He hasn’t had a pulse since we found him in the dumpster.” Conan shrugged, sliding off the couch and heading upstairs. 

Hakuba followed, almost on automatic. They were silent as they ascended the stairs, walking into the bedroom. Kid was laying on the bed, looking as he always did. Stiff. 

Conan picked up one of Kid’s arms and dropped it. It fell with a limp thud. Still no rigor mortis. No signs of decay or rot. 

“You said back at the dumpster that he was breathing, but you could not find a pulse.” Hakuba said slowly. 

“Yeah.” Conan nodded. “Still haven’t.”

“The wounds are not healing as they should.” Hakuba said, stepping closer. He raised the bandage covering Kid’s shoulder. It looked partially dried, the blood congealing, but not drying enough to form a scab. “The blood is not flowing.”

“And when you checked for a pulse, you couldn’t find one.” Conan concluded. “Yeah.” 

Hakuba rubbed his eyes. “Count on Kid to have an injury that does not heal as it should.” He said wearily, covering the injury back up. “Very well. I will not concern myself about his lack of pulse then.” 

Conan nodded, then yawned. 

“Sleep.” Hakuba urged him, motioning him towards the bed. “I’ll naught disturb you again today.” 

“Thanks.” Conan said, crawling into bed next to the Kid and closing his eyes. He fell asleep in a matter of moments afterwards. 

They fall into a routine. 

Hakuba’s up with the sun, checks on the Kaitou Kid, and then makes breakfast. Hakuba’s not the best cook, but he’s improving, and he handles it with a flair Conan can’t quite mimic. 

Conan can make camping food, toast, and rice. He makes the rice, to which Hakuba nods and doesn’t say anything about. 

After breakfast, Conan takes a shower, changes into boxers and a shirt, then climbs into bed next to the comatose Kid. The pillow and blankets smell like Hakuba and the Kid. It bothered him a bit initially, someone else’s scent on the bedding, then he got used to it. Having the non-moving Kid initially made him think of sleeping next to a corpse, and he falls into the habit of falling asleep with a hand placed on Kid’s slowly moving chest. 

Conan sleeps either like the dead, or up and down all day with nightmares, depending on how much he wore himself during the night. 

He’s not quite sure how Hakuba spends the day, but the house is always clean, and there are small repairs made here or there. Doors open more easily, the wind doesn’t howl through the building quite as much. 

Conan wakes up around sunset and stumbles down stairs. There’s usually dinner, and they eat in silence, except for small murmured comments about supplies, snippets on the radio and passing various dishes. 

As the sun sets, Hakuba visibly droops, then goes and takes a shower and climbs into bed next to the Kid. He too sleeps with an arm wrapped around the Kaitou Kid, clutching the thief as if the Kid is a giant teddy bear. 

Not for the first time, Conan wondered about their relationship. 

Conan does the nighttime dishes, then spends his time prowling around the island. He checks and sets traps around the island using bits of cord and twine, rocks, twigs and anything else he can find. Sometimes he’ll collect bits of edible wild plant life to supplement what they have. The farther they can stretch what they have, the better in his mind. They don’t know how long they’re going to be on the run, or holed up like this. 

Once he’s certain that everything was as secure as he could make it, he wandered out onto the rocks that jut into the ocean, a small flashlight in his hands. He went fishing sometimes. Other times collecting mussels, sea urchins or crabs. He brought the occasional octopus back that got trapped in the tide pools.

Hakuba used everything he brought in and often times Conan would find sushi in the refrigerator for lunch, made with whatever he caught on the previous day. There’s something satisfying about eating something you gathered with your own two hands. 

The moon waned a little more every night, turning into a small little sliver in the night sky, then disappearing all together.

Kid did not improve. He did not get worse, but he did not improve. 

“I think we should get him to a hospital.” Conan broached the topic over breakfast. 

Hakuba paused, his chopsticks hovering half way to his mouth.

“It’s been two weeks.” Conan continued. “And there’s been no change.” 

Hakuba placed the bite in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s the new moon.” He finally concluded

“Yeah.” Conan nodded. 

Hakuba inclined his head, grabbing more rice in his chopsticks. “Give him two more weeks.”

“What?” The idea was ludicrous. They could be killing him. A human body could survive for three weeks without food, but only three days without water, and the paltry amounts Hakuba dripped down Kid’s lips weren’t enough to keep him alive.

His hair and nails weren’t even growing. 

“Kid usually pulls his heists just before or during the full moon.” Hakuba explained, his tone completely rational sounding. “Or returns what he stole just after the full moon. The full moon is important to him, and there must be some reason for it. Give him until then. If he is not improved by the time the moon wanes again, we’ll take him to the hospital.” 

It made no sense, but nothing about the Kid made much sense. Conan reluctantly agreed, frowning into his food. 

The next day, as the moon crept out into the sky as a faint crescent, there was a change. 

It was a small one, one he would not have noticed if Hakuba hadn’t pointed it out. 

The soles of Kid’s feet were grey and stiff. More than stiff, hard. Like a rock. It didn’t feel like flesh at all, more like touching a granite statue. 

The tops of his feet still felt like soft flesh, the skin elastic. 

By the next morning, the tops of the feet and most of the way to the ankle bone were grey as well. As the moon waxed, so did the change in Kid’s body, creeping up his legs, the stone cold to their touch. Cold like the grave. Like a tombstone. 

They both freak out, just a little bit. 

The morning of the first quarter, Hakuba stomped down the stairs with a handful of bedding, his cheeks flushed with red. “You may want to sleep elsewhere today.” He informed Conan. “He voided his bowels.” 

Conan made a face and was very grateful that Hakuba was handling that part. Hakuba tied some of the corners together with rope, then threw the whole thing into the ocean to rinse it out before marching back upstairs. Conan spared a brief thought for doing the same with Kid, but the grey stone like substance has encapsulated Kid up to the waist, and he weighs about as much as a rock and would be impossible to get down to the beach.

There was fresh bedding and clean clothes on the Kid when Conan finally trudged up to sleep. It smelled strange. Usually the bedding had the sleep scent of all three of them, not just clean soap. He wasn’t sure if he liked it. 

The two days later, Conan was woken up during the day to a gurgling sound, and had enough presence of mind to turn Kid’s torso to the side as Kid regurgitated everything in his stomach. There wasn’t much, mostly the water Hakuba managed to shove down his throat, but the scent of it made Conan’s stomach churn. 

Hakuba just rolled his eyes and fetched the mop and bucket. The stone had reached Kid’s stomach. 

Conan was privately glad that he agreed to Hakuba’s plea to wait, a hospital would be more confused than they were. 

Three days before the full moon, Kid’s torso was encapsulated in the grey stone like substance, and Kid stopped breathing.

Hakuba spent a lot of time either sitting in the bedroom next to Kid or in the living room, staring at nothing. Conan alternated between staring at Kid and sitting up on the rooftop, staring at the sky. 

If Kid died, the past several weeks would have been for nothing. It was a chilling, terrifying thought. 

He thought about Ran. He hoped she was doing well. Sonoko's a good friend, she’d do anything anything and everything in her power to protect Ran. 

The night before the full moon, Conan woke up to see the last bit of warm flesh colour fading from around Kid’s eyes. It was the last part of him not encased in cool grey stone. 

A few tears leaked out of closed eyelids, the glow of the sunset making them look almost reddish in colour as they slowly crept down pale cheeks. Conan wiped them away with his thumb, staring at the tears for a moment before licking them, tasting the bitter-sweet flavour. 

“You’d better wake up tomorrow.” He informed the Kid. “I don’t know what we’re going to do if you don’t.” They’ve been strangely hesitant to speak of anything past tonight, as if even mentioning that Kid might not wake would jinx it. 

Conan doesn’t believe in luck. But still, they could use a little right now. 

Hakuba was sitting at the kitchen table when Conan got downstairs, looking much like a statue himself. He had made tea, and not much else for dinner. Conan laughed quietly to himself, thinking of the cards Kid gave them ages ago. 

' **Keep Calm and Make Tea**.'

' **Now Panic and Carry On**.'

“Get some sleep.” Conan advised the taller man. “You’re not going to be much good to him if you’re a zombie.” 

Hakuba made a non-commental grunt, and stayed where he was. Eventually he moved up stairs, falling into the bed next to the Kid without even showering, leaving his cold untouched cup of tea on the table. 

Conan checked the perimeter, but spent most of the night close to the house. The night was almost eeriely quiet, the entire island bathed in silver light. The golden light of the dawn brought little relief. 

He woke early the night of the full moon, checking on Kid. Not that there was much to check, the Kid remained unmoving and chill to the touch. If he hadn't seen the process himself, Conan might have thought that the Kid was a statue from a mausoleum. 

The thought gave him chills. Conan quickly got dressed and climbed out the window onto the rooftop, watching the eastern sky, waiting for the moon to rise, stomach too tense to even attempt breakfast. He could hear Hakuba moving around in the bedroom below. 

It was still outside, nearly peaceful as the golden hue of the sun faded, leaving just the darkness of the night sky, illuminated by the glow of the small towns in the distance and the glitter of the stars above. 

Conan stared at the stars, picking out his favourite constellations. He liked stars. Stars were like ghosts, big boiling balls of gas, their light thrown countless light-years until they became visible to the naked eye, here on a tiny planet called Earth orbiting a Sun that was barely a blip on the cosmic scale. 

Giant balls of gas that could have died, imploded and faded away. Galaxies gone. But their light remained, flying through space. 

The moon was heralded by a lightening in the sky to the east, the black becoming slightly grey, then white. Conan’s breath caught in his chest at the first sliver of the giant round glowing moon cresting over the treetops. 

The full moon slowly rose into the night sky, bathing the rooftop in silver light. Conan gasped, realising that his breath wasn’t just catching in his chest, his heart beat like crazy as the world spun like mad around him. He clutched his chest as his body felt like it was encased in cold, colder than the Artic wilds as his body twisted and changed. 

When he could breathe again without pain, he found himself sprawled on his back, staring up at the sky. His clothes were torn and in uncomfortable strips across his body. 

Conan stared at his hand, flexing it as he realised that it was larger. Not as large as Shin’ichi, but larger. 

He sat up, staring at what changes he could see. Not quite a teenager, but not a child either. 

Then he remembered. 

Kaitou Kid. 

Hesitant and unsure, his larger body not quite responding the way it should, he scrambled off the rooftop, nearly falling off a few times until he managed to climb in through the bedroom window he’d exited out of not even an hour ago. 

The first thing he noticed was Kid wasn’t in the bed anymore. 

The second was Hakuba standing in the middle of the room, staring intently at something in the corner. Hakuba raised a hand in Conan’s direction, motioning for him to stay where he was. 

That was when Conan spotted the Kaitou Kid, curled into the corner of the room, hands clutched in his hair, eyes glittering in the silver light of the moon, streaming in from behind Conan. 

Conan shifted out of the light, sitting on the edge of the bed as Kid appeared to be hyperventilating. They waited in silence as Kid finally seemed to get a hold of himself, shakily rising to his feet, holding onto the walls for support, red eyes flickering around before fastening on the blond. 

“Ha...” Kid swallowed. “Hakuba-?” It was more like a plea than a question, Kid making a stumbling step forward. 

Hakuba was across the room in an instant, arms wrapped tight around the Kid, pressing them together, Kid’s face buried against Hakuba’s shoulder, Hakuba’s head pressed against Kid’s neck. The thief made a muffled sound, hands clutching the material at the back of Hakuba’s shirt, tight enough that it looked like it might tear the cloth. Not pushing the detective away, keeping them close. 

A faint noise caught Conan’s attention, and it took a moment to realise that it was Hakuba struggling for breath, trying not to cry, and suddenly the moment was too intimate, to intense for Conan to bear. He crept away, leaving the door open behind him incase they needed help as he went downstairs. 

There was clean laundry on the line, and he took a pair of Hakuba’s boxers and a button down shirt to wear, all of his clothing and disguises too small for him to even attempt to even try on now. The boxers were too big and kept falling, but were better than attempting trousers. 

He made tea and rice, more to have something to do with his hands than anything else, then sat down and tried to make sense of the changes in his body. 

The few other times he’d changed back, it’d been all the way, back into Shin’ichi Kudo. This halfway stage was... strange. He looked at his reflection in the toaster, putting his age about around twelve or thirteen.

Not quite as good as seventeen, but a vast improvement over being seven. 

He was surprised when he checked the clock to discover over an hour had passed. He crept upstairs, peering into the bedroom. 

Kid was sitting upright on the bed, back against the wall, next to the window where he could still get some moonlight. Hakuba was sprawled across the bed, his head on Kid’s thigh, Kid gently carding his fingers through Hakuba’s hair, an expression Conan couldn’t quite place on his face. Fond regret was the closest he could think of. 

Kid looked up, eyes focusing on Conan like a laser beam and Conan swallowed. Kid’s eyes were red. Bright, glowing crimson red, in a way that was completely unnatural and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. _Not Human_ his hind brain screamed. 

Conan swallowed again, stepping into the room. “I made tea, if you want it.” 

Kid shook his head, dark hair swaying. “I’m good. Thanks though.” 

Conan nodded, shuffling closer. Hakuba was drooling a little bit in his sleep, lips partially open. The stress he’d been under was extremely noticeable now in it’s absence. “The two of you... are very close.” Conan ventured. 

This got him a soft huff of laughter. “We’re probably the closest thing the other has to a best friend.” Kid said with an indulgent smile on his face. 

Conan opened his mouth to comment. “Oh...” Was all that came out. 

He closed his mouth. Once, during a game of lies, Kid had said that Hakuba was an ass, meaning the opposite. Kid had also referred to Hakuba as ‘an annoying detective of his’ one night as well. 

“You said that you and Hakuba were for a different conversation.” Conan remembered. The night he’d gotten the ' **Now Panic and Carry On** ’ card. 

Kid spread the hand that wasn’t in Hakuba’s hair wide, as if to say that they had just had it. 

Conan wondered how he would react if it was Hattori instead of Kid that it had happened to. Or how Hattori would react if it’d been Conan who’d been shot and unconscious for a month. 

And how many of their conversations had been prompted because Kid needed to talk, and couldn’t speak to his best friend, because they were too close and too far apart at the same time. 

“I know you have questions.” Kid said, holding up his hand. “I do too. But, please, not tonight.”

“But-” Conan wanted to wail. 

“Give me a night to get my head on straight.” Kid implored. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. Just give me tonight.” 

Conan forced his impatience down, recognising that Kid really wasn’t going anywhere, at least not with the grip Hakuba had on him. 

“Okay.” Conan reluctantly agreed, trying not to sulk. At Kid’s amused look, he wasn’t sure how much he succeeded. 

“Thank you.” Kid said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. “And thank you for taking care of me.” 

Conan felt his cheeks blush. “You’re welcome.” It was no less than the Kid would probably do if their positions were reversed. Only perhaps with a bit more finesse on Kid’s part. 

He slipped back out of the room, glancing backwards as he reached the hallway, examining Kid’s expression. It wasn’t a painful expression, but it was a foreign one, like either Kid was wrestling with something in his head, or it wasn’t entirely Kid in there. 

Either way, it made Conan glad he’d agreed to hold off on asking his questions for later. 

He made his way downstairs again, debating what to do for the rest of the night. There were no shoes large or small enough to fit him, which left him indoors. Hakuba would have to go on another shopping trip soon. 

Get more food as well, now that there were three mouths instead of two. 

He settled for doing a patrol around the inside of the house, peering through the windows to make sure that they weren’t suddenly attacked now that Kid was awake and aware again. 

… Stranger things had happened. 

Dawn greeted him with silence, the night having passed uneventfully after the early upheaval. If anything, it made his nerves even more high strung, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

He made his way upstairs, peeking around the wall before daring to enter. Hakuba was awake, reaching up and poking Kid’s cheek with a fingertip. Once again, Conan was struck by the intimacy in their position. Not sexual, just... personal. 

“You look like yourself.” Hakuba quietly informed Kid. “Except your eyes. They changed colour.”

Kid chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t even looked in a mirror yet.” 

“They’re red.” Hakuba paused, the two of them staring at each other. “It looks good.” Hakuba finally confessed. “Different, but good.” 

“Thanks.” Kid laughed, high and easy. His expression looked clearer than it did when Conan had last seen him. “I must admit, it surprised me, seeing you with the darker hair. Not sure I like it.” 

Hakuba made a face. “We needed disguises. It was the best thing I could think of. Loathe how it smells.” 

“I’m afraid I think you’ll need to keep it a bit longer.” Kid said apologetically, running a hand through Hakuba’s hair, fingertips scratching along the scalp. “You’ll need a touch up soon, I’ll do it for you. There’s a few tricks to make it not feel so dry too.”

“Thank you.” Hakuba said sincerely. Kid grinned in response, looking pleased and happy in a way that Conan hadn’t ever seen before. Kid was always smiling, but he didn’t always mean it. 

“Maybe we should dye Conan’s hair too.” Kid added, looking up at him with those strange blood red eyes. “Blond?”

Conan leaned on the door jam, crossing his arms with a mock-glare. “I was disguised as a girl.” He said with as much dignity as he could. 

He could see Kid trying not to laugh. It was both annoying and gratifying at the same time. 

Hakuba sat up, rolling to the edge of the bed. “I suppose I should make breakfast.” He said with a stretch, shirt rising enough to show off his navel. 

“I made tea.” Conan said with a shrug. “And rice.” 

“I can make something with that.” Hakuba said, rising to his feet. He glanced back at Kid. “Hungry?”

Kid had a lost look on his face, one hand pressing against his stomach. “I... don’t think eating would be a good idea.” He said diplomatically. 

That earned him Hakuba’s worried face. 

“I’m not hungry.” Kid waved it off. “I’m fine. Really.” He crawled across the bed and climbed to his feet, taking the hand Hakuba offered him for balance. “I just don’t think I can eat.” He said apologetically. 

“Okay.” Hakuba agreed, but the troubled wrinkle didn’t leave his forehead. Kid glanced at Conan and not-quite rolled his eyes at the concern. 

“You emptied everything in your digestive track the week before you woke up.” Conan said, following Kid as they made their way downstairs. 

“Hmm.” Kid made a thoughtful sound, but didn’t say anything as they walked into the kitchen. Hakuba immediately set about digging in the refrigerator and pulling out food. “Where are we anyway?” 

“Remember me telling you about Detective Koshien?” Hakuba glanced over a shoulder at Kid, cracking eggs into a bowl. “When I met Hattori?”

“Yeah?”

“It was here.” Hakuba made a circular hand motion, gesturing to the building. 

“He called up Mogi-san to cash in a favour.” Conan added, slipping into what was his usual chair, enjoying the feeling of his feet not dangling quite so far off the ground. He could just barely brush the floor with his toes. It was unexpectedly nice. “Mogi... did more than expected.”

“Oh?” Kid turned one of the kitchen chairs backwards so he could straddle it. “Do tell.”

They did, starting with Conan meeting Hakuba and finding the Kid, trading the thread of narration back and forth over scrambled eggs, miso soup, and rice, washing it down with tea. Kid watched them, pausing once to take Conan’s mug of tea and sniffing it before placing it back without drinking. 

Conan found himself starting to yawn as they got to describing Kid’s slow, strange transformation into stone. The sun was up, his body was starting to shut down, preferring a nocturnal schedule. 

Hakuba explained his theory that Kid essentially forced anything that was a foreign substance, namely food, out of his body during the transformation. Hence the vomiting and emptying of bowels. The bastard didn’t even flinch as he explained it, while Conan quietly motioned to Kid that Hakuba took care of clean up.

Kid’s face was a neutral mask, but his cheeks turned slightly pink as he ducked his head in either embarrassment or mortification. Conan couldn’t help but gawk a little, unaware that Kid even had the capacity to blush. 

Then it was Conan’s turn to duck his head in embarrassment as he mentioned tasting Kid’s tears, getting slightly round-eyed looks from the other two. Kid’s expression shifted to a thoughtful one as he nodded, as if it explained something. 

Hakuba described waiting, sitting at the foot of the bed as the room filled with silver moonlight, then noticing a subtle glow to the Kid’s body, glowing an eerie red before the Kid abruptly sat up, eyes glowing a solid bright crimson, like something out of a gothic horror novel. Kid panicking at the strange settings, fleeing to the corner of the room until he calmed down and recognised Hakuba. 

Kid hummed to himself, gaze turned inwards as he drew nonsensical patterns on the table top. Neither of them mentioned the hug and Conan wasn’t about to bring it up. 

Which brought them to present time. They lapsed into silence for a few moments, absorbing the information. 

“The one thing I don’t understand.” Kid said, looking up at Hakuba. “Is why you came to look for me, instead of assuming I would be okay. You don’t normally pursue my trail after you’ve lost it.” 

Hakuba sighed, his expression shifting to something grave that made him look at least a decade older than he was. “I did not, at first.” He admitted. “There was some concern on the part of the Task Force, and they ran a general search which turned up nothing, not even the shooter. We were not even certain there was a shooter, if were not a trick, or you had merely run into something in mid-air. Just in case, we maintained radio silence, so as not to alarm any potential suspects.”

“After about an hour finding nothing, we returned back to headquarters.” Hakuba’s hands gripped the mug in his hand in a tight grip. Conan wondered if Kid noticed the telling approximation of time, Hakuba usually listed time down to the second. “Which was when the first reports of fires started coming in. One was strange, two... Two was alarming. Three was a panic.” 

Hakuba looked up, locking gazes with the Kid. “You have to understand... I know where some of your bolt holes are. Only a few, but when the second hideout I knew of went up in flames, a suspicion formed in my mind.” 

“They targeted places I would go, if injured.” Kid’s voice was low. 

Hakuba nodded, noticeably swallowing. He reached out his left hand, palm open, fingers outstretched. Kid stared for a moment, then curiously pressed his palm to Hakuba’s, the two winding their fingers together. 

“And then the Blue Parrot went up.” 

Kid let out a strangled gasp, his entire body twitching as if he’d been shot again. His grip on Hakuba’s hand tightened to the point where Hakuba’s fingers began to uncurl from the pressure. Hakuba gave no indication of how much pain he might have been in from having his hand crushed, his gaze firmly locked on Kid’s eyes. 

“Ji... Jii-chan.” Kid’s voice was a choked whisper. 

“I identified him myself.” Hakuba’s voice was a flat monotone. “I knew him, the Blue Parrot was one of the few places in Tokyo I could catch a game of billiards, Jii-chan and I often played against each other. I briefly examined his body with the M.E., there were no obvious signs of foul play, no injuries inconsistent with having been caught in an explosion. He went quickly, probably not even aware of what happened.” 

Kid swallowed and nodded, closing his eyes and dropping his head, so his face was shadowed by the dark fringe on his face. 

“‘Kaachan?” Kid finally said when he’d regained some of his control, easing his grip on Hakuba’s fingers, but didn’t let go. “Aoko?”

“As soon as the report that the Blue Parrot went up, I called them both.” Hakuba’s voice was reassuring. “They got out safely. Nakamori-keibu was on his way home when the houses exploded shortly after. Nakamori and Aoko were placed in protective custody. The last I heard about your Mother was that she said something about visiting friends in New York.” 

Kid laughed. It sounded closer to a sob. “She’s in Vegas then.” 

Either way, she was most likely safe. Conan felt their month of isolation keenly in that moment. They had no current news. 

After a few moments of hesitation, Hakuba picked up the thread of narration again. “After Nakamori’s house went up, I was able to plaint the idea the bombs might be targeting people with affiliations to the Kaitou Kid. A bomb squad was sent to the Hakuba Laboratory and my father’s residence. By that time, I had already grabbed my crash kit and was enroute to the Blue Parrot.” 

“While I was there, the word came back that explosives were found at both the laboratory and the house.” Hakuba grimaced, a moue of distaste. “Which meant that it was a threat against the Commissioner's life.” 

Kid cackled. It wasn’t a happy sound, but there was affection in it. “They tried to wrap you in bubble wrap, didn’t they?” Kid squeezed Hakuba’s hand, then loosened his grip. They rested their hands on the table, fingers just touching, but no longer clinging to each other. 

“Attempted, yes.” Hakuba agreed. “Which is when I slipped away and returned to where you had disappeared, attempting to find you before who ever was placing the bombs did.”

“The officers at the scene-” Conan startled.

Hakuba gave him a faint crooked smile. “I told you, I did not recognise them.”

Hakuba had purposely downplayed them, alluding to nepotism and popularity rather than any bloodthirsty intent.

“Officers?” Kid echoed, clearly lost. 

“Hakuba had some very unprofessional policemen watching him when we met up.” Conan tilted his head towards Hakuba. “I’m guessing now that they were members of the same group who shot you, hoping that he would lead them to you to finish the job.” 

“I used Conan’s appearance to our advantage to allow us to escape under their radar.” Hakuba looked both pleased with himself and guilty. “I judged extrication to be the greater priority than deduction.” 

Kid’s gaze narrowed at Hakuba, clearly not pleased with the detective. “They would have killed you as soon as they knew you found me.” The deadpan tone carried a dangerous irate growl with it. 

Hakuba’s gaze was placid as he stared back. “I know.” He clearly found the risk to be acceptable, and did not back down.

The tension in the air was palatable, frizzling between Hakuba and Kid, neither one backing down. Conan glanced between the two of them, then pushed his chair backwards, exhaustion catching up. He was not a part of this argument. 

“I’m heading to bed.” He announced, picking up his dishes and placing them in the sink before walking out of the kitchen. 

When he glanced backwards, they were still in the middle of their staring contest. He sighed and shook his head. 

Best Friends, indeed. The two were a stubborn matched set, getting up in arms over threats to the other. 

Conan trudged upstairs, taking a quick shower before changing into pyjamas, expecting his brain to keep him up for a while, but he found himself asleep only moments after his head hit the pillow. 

He dreamt of fire, bullets, and the song of the stars in the coldness of space.

When he woke up again, he was alarmed by the lack of presence in the bed, blearily reminding himself that Kid had woken up from his strange coma, and was up and walking again. It was still disorientating, the one constant from the past month missing. 

He got up and stretched, revelling in the feeling of a larger body again, even if it did make his boxer shorts fall down. He frowned as he pulled them back up, then stalked off to use the bathroom. 

There was a third toothbrush in the cup next to the sink. Conan had a red one, Hakuba had green one, and now there was a blue one. Conan stared at it. It didn’t look it’d been used, just unwrapped and set there, waiting for Kid. 

Three. 

Conan felt the world tilt to the side for a moment before shifting to a new configuration. Everything was changing, yet again. 

He stared at the mirror for a long moment before turning on the sink. 

He ignored the blue toothbrush as he did his morning ablutions and went downstairs. It was quiet, the sky outside the windows a dusky hue, the sun just setting. He did a loop around the downstairs, then stepped outside, wondering if they were under attack. 

Something eased in his chest as he glanced out a window and found Hakuba standing on the grass outside the house, arms crossed as he stared up at the rooftop with a frown on his face. Conan still exercised caution as he stepped outside, looking for any sign that his traps had been tripped. 

“He’s been on the roof all day.” Hakuba informed him as Conan crept closer. Conan turned around and spotted Kid, looking like a gargoyle on the rooftop, staring out over the ocean, the glow of the sun painting him in purples and golds. 

“All day?” Conan echoed. 

“After we finished shouting at each other.” Hakuba shrugged one shoulder, as if it was neither here nor there. “I did leave for a few hours to get more supplies. He may have come down then, I do not know. There is new clothing for you on the living room couch, I hope it fits.”

Conan raised an eyebrow. “Did you get any skirts?” He asked, half wary of pranks. 

“One.” Hakuba admitted. “Partially to keep the cover, partly in case we need the disguise again. I told the salesperson that my daughter had gone through a sudden growth spurt to get the approximate sizes.”

“Thanks.” Conan nodded. He hesitated before asking his next question. “Who is Jii-chan?” 

It was partly curiosity on his part, to know this person who was obviously close to the Kid. And partly so that when he did talk to the Kid, he didn’t accidentally end up insulting the Kid or the deceased. 

“His... Uncle, I suppose you could say.” Hakuba uncrossed his arms, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Konosuke Jii was Kuroba Toichi’s assistant up until Toichi’s death.” 

Hakuba turned, fixing Conan with a grave expression that had Conan immediately bracing himself for bad news. “Kuroba Toichi died under mysterious circumstances during a Magic Show.” Hakuba said flatly. “In an unexplained explosion.” 

Conan startled. He’d known that Toichi had died when Kuroba was young, his mother had been friends with Toichi and had taken his death hard, but he hadn’t known the cause. 

“Then Jii-chan...”

“Went out like his Master.” Hakuba turned to stare back up at the Kid. “I think he would have approved, actually.” He added with a bit of faintly morbid humour. 

Conan examined Hakuba’s features. “You knew him well then.”

Hakuba shrugged. “Well enough. I had tracked him down as a likely accomplice of the Kaitou Kid, which he most definitely was, and ended up if not friends, then more than acquaintances over billiards. There are not many billiard players of our calibre who play for merely the enjoyment of the game.” 

There was a faint smile on Hakuba’s face that Conan doubted Hakuba was aware of, a bitter sweet expression. It was one that Conan was all too familiar with, the taste of friendship mixed with the sting of loss. 

“We would play each other at least once a week, unless something came up.” Hakuba shook his head fondly. “For all his skills, Kaito is not a very good billiard player.” 

“The two of you are close.” Conan said, muting his rancor at it as much as he could. He still couldn’t get over his dislike of someone having been there _first_. But it was obvious in how Hakuba talked. 

“We spent a lot of time watching each other.” Hakuba’s expression was neutral once more. “For weaknesses, mostly. Momentary lapses that might earn an advantage over one another. I meant to thank you, by the way.” 

Conan felt his eyebrows rise into his hairline. “Thank me?” He echoed, unable to hide his surprise. “For what?”

“For being there.” Hakuba shrugged looking up at the rooftop where Kid was silhouetted by the fading sunlight. “Mostly when I could not.” He sounded regretful. 

Conan just stared at him, lacking the pieces to put the puzzle that was Hakuba and Kid’s friendship together. They were obviously friends, protective of each other, yet fought like cats and dogs with each other. 

“You had distance, he could let things drop around you that I had a different context for. I know Kuroba Kaito and the Kaitou Kid equally well. Any slip as one or the other, and I would have proof as to who he was.” 

“And you would have turned him in?” Conan said, unable to believe it. 

Hakuba glanced at him, dark eyes inscrutable. “Yes.” 

Conan recoiled at the thought. It must have shown on his face, because Hakuba’s expression shifted to an arrogant smirk. “Would you not have done the same?” 

“Yes!” The word was out before he could stop it. He gaped, horrified. “I mean, no! Not after-” He waved a hand around. He’d saved the Kid, for goodness sake! _They’d_ saved the Kid! 

… Oh. 

“Before we started conversations, I would have in a heartbeat.” Conan admitted. “During the beginning, perhaps. But afterwards...” Afterwards, the Kid was a confidant, one of the few people Conan could actually talk to. 

“Precisely.” Hakuba’s smirk shifted to amusement. “He watched me too, for police secrets, anything in the justice system he could exploit.”

If anyone was privy to high level police secrets, it would be Hakuba. From what Conan could deduce, Hakuba had been practically raised as one.

“-But as we watched each other, we learned. As we learned, it became less... antagonistic. I helped him once or twice, giving information against a rival Kaitou and the like. But by that time, we were cast in our roles at school.” Hakuba sounded regretful. “Countless eyes watching us for any change in interaction.”

Conan shivered, remembering the fish bowl that was High School. Becoming friends, not talking to someone, everything was observed and talked about at great length, dissected, theorised and rumoured about. 

He wondered how it would feel, to be friends, yet to have to constantly keep up a show of antagonism. Words saying one thing, actions another. He had his own facades, child instead of teenager, but none quite so contradictory. 

“It became our shared secret, I guess you could say.” Hakuba shrugged. “Cans of coffee after a late night, a pork bun when lunch was forgotten, reminders of homework chapters due, just minor tokens of kindness on a bad day. Mum brought back two of those ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ pens, I slipped one into his desk after a particularly bad heist.” 

“He said that one of ‘his detectives’ had started using one.” Conan glanced up at the Kid, nearly invisible against the dark violet sky. “I think... He’d come to me whenever you confused him. Try to figure it out. You kept slipping into the conversation, I couldn’t figure out why unless he was constantly thinking about you, and I couldn’t figure out why.” 

It retrospect, it had annoyed it him, that Kid was always thinking about someone else, even as he was talking to Conan. 

“Now you know.” Hakuba turning his attention back to Kid. “Thank you.”

Conan momentarily struggled with the surge of conflicting emotions. He’d never looked at it as their conversations helping anyone else other than himself, or maybe the Kid occasionally. He looked up at the stars, spotting Mercury glowing in the distance, one of the first stars in the sky shining. “You’re welcome.” He finally settled for. 

Hakuba nodded in return, the two of them lapsing into silence. 

“I’m going to go start dinner.” Hakuba finally announced, stepping away as the last rays of sunlight vanished, leaving them in the cool shadows of twilight. “It’ll be ready when you come down.” 

“When I-?” Conan echoed at Hakuba’s retreating back. He glanced up at Kid and caught on to what Hakuba was hinting at. 

He was willing to bet that while Hakuba and Kid may have become friends through their actions, they had a hard time talking with each other. 

Conan followed Hakuba inside, heading into the living room, where he found a brown paper sack full of folded clothing. Much to his relief, it was mostly full of t-shirts and shorts, perfect for kids to go running amok in on the beach. 

He quickly got dressed, the clothing slightly larger than he preferred, which made sense if he was going to continue to keep growing. He thought about it, trying to remember when he’d hit his growth spurts. He’d been the shortest one in his class, right up until about the time he hit 15 and finally had a growth spurt that put him taller than Ran. 

There were a few pairs of sandals as well, and he tried them on until he found a pair that fit reasonably well, taking the clothing that fit upstairs, leaving the rest in the bag. 

He hesitated outside of the bedroom they’d all been sharing, realising that they had no reason to share the room anymore. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t enough rooms for them each to have their own private space, but it felt strange to even consider moving his few things out. 

In the end, he decided to worry about it later. If either Hakuba or Kid had a problem with it, he doubted they would have any trouble doing something about it. Actions, not words. 

He put his new clothes where he’d been leaving his old ones and climbed out out the window, finding it both easier and trickier to climb out with his new body. The holds were in different places, his reach longer. 

Kid twitched slightly as Conan approached, silently analysing who it was, before relaxing again.. “Hey.” Conan said, sitting down next to the thief. The rooftop tiles under his thighs were hot, almost unpleasantly so. “Fancy running into you here.” 

“That-” Kid tilted his head back and laughed. “-Has to be the WORST pick up line ever.” The thief scolded , turning to glance at him with a grin on his face. With a jolt, Conan realised that Kid was wearing his monocle again. He’d forgotten about it, having gotten used to Kid’s bare face. It was even more jarring while Kid was wearing sweatpants and a slightly too large t-shirt. 

Kid smiled, running a finger down the side of the large white monocle. “Hakuba’s apology.” He said with a shrug.”He left it out for me to find when he went to shore for a bit.” 

“You went through all his stuff anyway, didn’t you?” Conan shook his head, amusement bubbling up. 

“Of course.” Kid looked affronted at the idea that he would do anything else.

“You two are strange friends.” Conan commented, staring out over the ocean, to the faint glittering lights of the shore. 

“I don’t have many.” Kid admitted. “Not many can put up with me. Hakuba, Aoko, Aoko’s Father on a good day. ‘Kaachan, Jii-chan... You. That’s about it.” 

Kid could count them all on one hand. 

Conan thought about it, all the people he worried about, all those who worried about him. Ran, Ayumi, Genta, Mitsuhiko, Ai, Agasa, Hattori. Sonoko to some extent. Mouri, Megure, Sato, Takagi, Shiratori, most of Division One of the Metropolitan Police Force. His parents. Kid. 

He had handfuls of people. And he still didn’t know how anyone was. Who was alive, who might have been killed.

He thought about what Hakuba talked about, and what he didn’t talk about. His father only in passing. Baayaa, also in passing, a housekeeper who raised him. The Kaitou Kid. “I don’t think Hakuba has any more friends than you do.” Conan admitted. Maybe in the UK, but he doubted it. 

That earned him a flicker of wide-eye surprise before it was quickly covered up. Conan shrugged. Even after sharing space for a month together, it wasn’t as if he knew Hakuba all that well. 

“We looked, what little we could.” Conan said quietly. “Hakuba would occasionally bring back newspapers when he came back from supply runs. There wasn’t any news on anyone. It was as if the fires never happened.”

Megure, Shiratori, Takagi and Sato made the newspaper at various times for unrelated cases. But there were no appearances of Sleeping Kogoro. Suzuki Jirokichi didn’t make the news either, removing the most likely way of spotting Sonoko, and therefore Ran. 

“Media blackout.” Kid nodded, looking as if he expected as much. “Either the Commissioner doesn’t want anyone to know his son’s gone missing, or-”

“Someone else is pulling the strings.” Conan nodded. It was tricky, in this day of cell phones and instant communication, but suppression of information could be done. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright.” Kid shrugged, as if it didn’t matter when it so obviously did. “I wouldn’t have expected anything else.” 

Conan narrowed his eyes. “How big of an organisation are we talking about here?” 

“I don’t know. Big.” Kid closed his eyes and shrugged. “But that’s a conversation for all three of us.” 

“Yeah.” Conan agreed. He could sense more than see the moon rising behind them, like a tickle on his skin, the faint lightening of the sky. “Speaking of all three, you guys going to be fighting a lot?” 

“I don’t know.” Kid shrugged. “Probably. Is that going to be a problem?” 

Conan thought about it. “I’d prefer to stay out of them.” He said honestly. 

Kid laughed. “That’s fine.” He said, running his fingers around the edge of the monocle. “We’ve never fought like that before. It usually doesn’t go beyond our normal mode of conversation, taking pot shots at each other.” 

Waking up after a month, finding out his uncle had been killed, his family threatened, and his best friend attempting suicide to save him, it would have been more of a surprise if emotions hadn’t been running high. Conan took a breath and nodded. 

He was somewhat used to Kazuha and Hattori’s bickering back and forth, but that didn’t mean he _liked_ it. 

Kid appeared to examine him for a moment. "How are you doing?" He asked. "Sudden growth spurt and all."

Conan thought about it for a moment, opening and closing his fist, streaching the fingers out. "Pretty good." He admitted. "I would have preffered changing all the way back, but at this point, I think I'm getting used to not being quite the right size." 

No matter how he looked at it, it was an impovement. At this point, he was just hoping the effect was more permenant than Haibara's cures. Kid nodded, accepting his word, gazing back out across the water. 

“You? How are you doing?” Conan asked, tilting his head to the side and studying Kid’s face. He looked okay, rather collected actually, but the man was a master of hiding his emotions. 

“‘Fine’ covers too many bases.” Kid said neutrally. “So let’s go with ‘different, not entirely bad’ and stick with that.” 

That really didn’t help narrow things down. “Okay.” Conan agreed. He supposed he could say the same about himself. 

That earned him a sideways look and a smirk. “I’ll explain when we go downstairs. I think it’s time that you detectives got some your questions answered for a change.” Kid said. “Not all of them, of course, but the important ones.” 

“If I all my questions ever got answered, I’d have to stop being a detective.” Conan wrinkled his nose. “And that’d be boring.” 

Kid laughed, a relaxed sound that did much to sooth Conan’s worry. “Alright.” He agreed, rising to his feet and stretching. “Oh, I have got to come back out here and soak up some of this moonlight.” Kid said, closing his eyes in an expression of bliss. “The sun just does not feel nearly as good.” 

“Side effect?” Conan inquired as Kid offered him a hand up. Conan hesitated for a second before taking it, Kid pulling him smoothly to his feet, his smooth fingers almost hot to the touch. 

“Most likely.” Kid agreed, giving Conan’s hand a squeeze before releasing him. “I’m not normally this tactile.” He apologised.

Which made sense. Close enough to be touched meant close enough to grab. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Conan smirked, teasing the thief as they made their way back to the open window. “Not after watching you and Hakuba being all snugly.” 

“That was for his assurance.” Kid said loftily. “He’d been through several traumatic experiences. And you detectives have just such fragile egos.” 

“Better than overinflated.” Conan muttered, the two of them bickering as they made their way inside and downstairs. 

The realisation that because Kid and Hakuba were friends did not diminish his friendship with Kid was a warm one. Hakuba and Kid had become close through their actions, Kid and Conan through their words, and that hadn’t changed at all. 

Heck, Hakuba and Kid sitting down and having a normal conversation was probably a huge change for both of them. He laughed quietly to himself. Point for him. 

Hakuba was finishing up dinner as they stepped into the kitchen, the other detective glancing up at them, then doing a double take as he saw Kid wearing the monocle. Kid gave Hakuba a small crooked smile, even as he continued trading barbs with Conan. Hakuba returned the smile, shoulders obviously relaxing as he turned away, finishing his preparations. 

Apology given and accepted. 

“If you children are done.” Hakuba said in his snootiest tones. “Dinner is ready. Conan, if you would please wash your hands. Kid, there is a bag of clothing that should fit you if you are tired of what you are currently wearing sitting on your chair.” 

Kid dove for the chair he’d been sitting in earlier in the morning with the glee of a child who had just spotted presents under the tree on Christmas morning. The brown paper bag full of clothing and the Kid quickly vanished back upstairs. 

Hakuba merely shook his head and continued setting the food out, a small smile hovering around his lips. “You look like an idiot.” Conan informed him, then went to go wash his hands, Hakuba’s soft laughter following him out. 

Washing his hands gave him something to do while Kid got dressed, although he still made it to the table first. Kid bounced in, wearing an untucked blue shirt over a pair of dark slacks, the monocle still on his face. 

“You got me gloves!” Kid gleefully cheered as he gave Hakuba a tight hug, pinning the larger detective’s arms to his side. 

“I know they are not nearly as good as what you normally wear-” Hakuba said apologetically, only to be hushed by Kid’s fingers pressed against his lips. 

“Thank you.” Kid said patiently, like an adult reminding a child of their manners.

“You are welcome.” Hakuba said dutifully against Kid’s fingertips. Kid grinned and released him, sliding on the black gloves, fiddling with them as he did the snaps on the inside of the wrist. “I thought they might make you feel more comfortable.” Hakuba added quietly, as if uncertain it’d get him scolded again. 

“Very much so.” Kid agreed, rubbing his fingertips together with a pleased air as he threw himself backwards into his chair. “Thanks.” The gloves were obviously not stage gloves, the fabric bunching at the fingertips. 

The tips of Hakuba’s ears turned faintly pink. It was over endearingly cute and Conan didn't even attempt to hide the smirk on his face as he climbed up into his chair. “So.” He said, flicking his gaze between the other two. “Eat first or talk first?”

“How about both?” Kid looked at the food on the table with a perplexed look. “You eat, I talk.”

“Still not hungry?” Hakuba asked with concern. “Are you thirsty at all?” 

“I’m fine.” Kid shook his head. “It’s just... Have you ever looked at food and known if you ate any your stomach would sick it right back up?” 

Conan felt his own stomach roll. “Yes.” He agreed. Hakuba nodded. 

“It’s like that.” Kid looked down at the table and shook his head. “And I don’t think it’s going to hurt me, if I don’t eat.” 

This time Hakuba and Conan exchanged a look. “How so?” Hakuba cautiously asked. 

Kid frowned slightly, his dark red eyes going slightly distant before returning his attention back towards them. “Eat.” He waved at them. “I’ll talk.” 

Hakuba and Conan exchanged another look, then Hakuba hesitantly scooping rice and hayashi beef with sauce into a bowl and passing it to Conan. “Itadakimasu.” Conan murmured as he started eating. Fresh beef was a rarity, usually only for the days Hakuba went to town on errands. Hakuba dished out his meal, murmuring his own itadakimasu before eating. 

The hayashi beef was good, but missing something. He added a dash of soy sacue and hummed in pleasure at the flavour. Just what it needed. 

Kid sat in silence for a few moments as they ate, obviously weighing his words and where to start. Finally, when he spoke, it was not what Conan was expecting at all. "This is going to sound strange." He finally said, idly scratching one cheek in a nervous gesture. "But I'm not the Kaitou Kid or Kuroba Kaito you knew." 

Conan stared at Kid for a moment, then glanced over at Hakuba, who had stopped eating, holding his chopsticks in a white knuckle grip. "Explain." Hakuba said, his voice terse. 

"Bear with me for a few minutes." Kid said, holding up a hand in an imploring gesture. Hakuba stared at him for a moment, then tersely nodded. Kid sighed in response, slumping slightly in the chair, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back. "The universe is a wide, vast place." He started, his voice slightly off, like he was reciting something from memory, disassociated from what was going on. "And there are more forms of life out there than humans can even begin to imagine. Carbon is not the only thing capable of bringing life, much less sentience."

Aliens. The Kaitou Kid was talking about Aliens. Conan's gaze flickered to Hakuba, who had his own version of Kid's Poker Face up as he listened intently, then back at the Kid. 

"Imagine if you would, a... plant, I guess would be the closest Earth equivalent. Made of minerals, that look like astroids. Alive, and sentient, but not in anyway that would be able to communicate with a verbal based life form. A plant merrily flying through the cosmos for millions upon millions of human years, bits of it falling away like spores, to grow and form new plants to fly across the galaxies." 

Kid opened his eyes, crimson orbs staring absently up at the ceiling. "Now imagine once such spore floating free in the vacumm of space, and suddenly getting caught in the gravitational pull of a strange planet such as Earth. One that is warm, filled with obnoxious gasses and not the pure vacuum of space. The spore, being self aware, would create for itself a protective layer, secrete it's sap to harden into a stone barrier."

"Like a gem." Hakuba said quietly. The Kid was a notorious jewel thief, targeting the largest and oldest of gems. 

"Like a gem of Myth." Kid nodded slightly. "A mythical jewel named Pandora, that when held up to the moonlight, would cry tears of immortality."

Conan hissed slightly in shock. Immortality. Like what the mysterious organisation was searching for. "People will kill for immortality." He murmured. "The people who shrunk me are searching for it." 

"Toichi discovered the same thing when he attempted to find such a gem to keep it out of the hands of people like that." Kid said dully. "As did Kaito." 

Hakuba twitched, a full body shudder, but didn't say anything. Kid didn't appear to notice, his gaze firmly fixed on the ceiling. "Say a jewel thief finds this Pandora before those who killed his father does, and attempts to fly away with it, the stone tucked safely in a breast pocket. At least, until they are shot, the bullet not only shattering Pandora's protective shell, but shoving it into the chest cavity of the thief carrying it." 

Conan swallowed, staring at the Kid's chest, covered by the blue button down. There had been a bullet hole in the protective vest that they'd cut off the Kaitou Kid, but aside from some discolouration and old scars, the flesh underneath had been unbroken. No signs of the bullet or anything actually penetrating the skin. It'd been odd, but they'd been distracted by the Kaitou Kid bleeding all over Shin'ichi's bed at the time. 

"Pandora's sap mixes with the human's flesh, knitting it back together, but both are too damaged to survive on their own. The Human body is not the most ideal place for the spore to flourish, but the atmosphere will kill it, and the thief cannot exist without a circulatory pump."

"You had no pulse." Conan remembered. Now they knew why, the stone had taken the place of Kid's heart. 

"It would have made life a lot easier if I had." Kid sounded slightly annoyed at himself. "Took forever to spread sap to every part of this body to alter squishy human flesh into a good protective shell." He sighed, rubbing his head, as if to ward off a headache. "I've spent the past day trying to sort through memories, but humans experiance life differently, and it's somewhat confusing. How do you guys survive without sensing microwave frequencies?"?

Conan shrugged. He didn't understand how an alien plant could survive with. 

"So when you said that you were no longer Kid or Kuroba, that is because you are now this... alien plant?" Hakuba asked quietly, his face grave. "This... Pandora?"

"Pretty much." Kid shrugged helplessly. "I remember being Kaito. But I also remember being Pandora. I have all the memories of both. But Pandora has been around for hundreds of millions of years as humans measure it. These handful of years that Kaito has existed... is a fraction of a single percentage of our memories. I remember being swallowed by a dinosaur sometime in the Jurassic before being buried and hibernating until the Great Flood." 

To remember spending millions of years wandering the vastness of space, other planets and possibly life forms, then to be trapped in a barrier far away from the reaches of home... 

Yeah. Conan could relate somewhat. 

Hakuba just stared at Kid, his face an expressionless mask. Conan spoke up, trying to distract the dull look in Hakuba's eyes. "Are you going to try to return to outer space?" Conan asked Kid.. "Now that you're mobile now?"

"Maybe in a few thousand years or so." Kid's gaze flickered at Conan as he shrugged, leaning back in the chair. "It will take a while to soak up enough moonlight through the atmosphere to regain enough energy to do so. But there's enough room in this shell actually to sprout, so there's no rush." 

A few thousand years. Sure. Bare flicker of history. Humans had only been around for 10,000 or so years themselves. Conan tapped down on a hysterical giggle. The Kaitou Kid was now some sort of walking container for an alien plant life form. 

Best decorative planter EVER. 

Hakuba set his chopsticks down, a pinched look on his face as he stared at the table, like he'd either just been punched in the gut or lost his best friend in the whole world. He took a deep breath, obviously pulling himself back together again. "Alright." He said, voice firm. "In the meantime, what are your plans?"

Kid was silent for a moment, eyes flickering across Hakuba's face. "The same as it was before Pandora was shoved into Kid's chest." The Kaitou Kid said gravely. "Find those responsible for Oyaji's death and bring them to justice. And by 'justice', I mean the tender arms of the police." He added with a sharp smile. 

Hakuba nodded. "Then what I propose is this." He said, gaze flickering between them. "We pool our information. This search for immortality, it sounds as if you both have had experience with these mysterious people looking for it. Tonight, both of you write down everything you remember during your encounters with them. The slightest hint, the tiniest amount of information might be the clue we need to bring everything together. I will go over it in the morning."

"And since you haven't had any first-hand contact with them, you'll be a mostly unbiased fresh set of eyes." Kid concluded, with a pleased look. "So you may catch stuff we've overlooked."

"Precisely." Hakuba nodded.

"As long as we can go over it during tomorrow's dinner." Conan agreed. He was still set to a nocturnal schedule and didn't see that changing any time soon. Although he had woken up a little bit sooner tonight than he had the previous weeks, hopefully this meant he needed less sleep as a pre-teen than he had as a child. 

"Agreed." Hakuba rose, taking his mostly untouched bowl of beef with him. "If you will excuse me gentlemen, I will retire for the night." With those words, he stiffly walked back to the kitchen, wrapped up his food, placed it in the refrigerator, and went up stairs. 

Kid stared at the stairs after him, a slightly lost expression on his face. Conan ate a few bites of dinner, debating speaking up or not. "To be fair, you just informed him that his best friend was killed in front of him, and then replaced by a sentient alien plant from outer space." 

A contrite look flashed across Kid's face. "I possibly could have explained that better." He muttered, slouching in the chair. Kid's crimson gaze flickered over at Conan, a petulant look in his face. "How come you're taking it so well?"

Conan pointed at his nose. "Shrunk." He'd gotten pretty good at accepting the impossible. It was either that or go mad. 

One of Kid's eyebrows cocked upwards. "Point." 

They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of Hakuba brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower, then stopping in front of the door that had been their joint bedroom. They both stared upwards at the ceiling, waiting to see what Hakuba would do. Conan remembered his own debate on if he should stay in the room they'd be sharing or move to a different room. 

Kid seemed to be holding his breath as he waited for Hakuba to move. Finally Hakuba stepped into the room they'd been sharing, climbing into their bed, and Kid let out a quiet sigh. He glanced over at Conan. "Rooftop?" Kid inquired, his face carefully neutral. 

"Sounds good." Conan agreed. "If I know Hakuba, there should be notebooks in the bags from today's trip."

"And pens. In at least two colours." Kid agreed. "Possibly erasers and pencils as well." 

Conan snickered. Kid definitely knew the blond detective well. 

They collected the notebooks as well as some hardback books to use as lap-desks, opening one of other bedrooms windows to climb up onto the rooftop to not disturb Hakuba. They ended up sitting back to back as they wrote, Conan making lists of everything he could from each encounter, adding separate lists for each of the mysterious organisation members he could remember. 

It was comfortable, reminding him of their conversations on top of Mouri's Agency. They didn't talk much, the only noise the sound of the pens scraping across the paper. 

Conan took a few breaks as the moon crept across the sky, to grab a bite to eat, and patrol the island, It was as quiet as it always was. The highlight of the night was finding a fairly large mackerel trapped in the tide pools, bringing it back to the house for Hakuba to cook in the morning before climbing back up on the rooftop to keep writing. 

By the time the sun was rising, his eyes were gritty and his hand was starting to cramp up. "I'm done for the night." He muttered, folding the notebook closed and clipping the pen on the cover. 

"Alright." Kid said, staring out over the ocean, to where the the moon was setting over Japan. 

Hakuba was awake when they came downstairs, already showered, dressed, and making breakfast. "Thank you for the fish." He commented, slicing open the fish's stomach and removing the internal organs with a sharp knife.

"Welcome." Conan nodded, finding a pot of still warm tea on the counter and pouring himself a cup. He made a face at the bitter flavour and added a pinch of sugar. 

Kid came in, shuffling his feet slightly as he approached Hakuba. "Hey." 

"Morning." Hakuba nodded back. "We have stuff other than fish if you are hungry." Because Kid was allergic to fish, Conan belatedly remembered Hakuba mentioning. 

"No, thank you." Kid shook his head. Conan glanced up, getting concerned. Kid still hadn't eaten anything. Not since he'd woken up, and not for the past month. Although if Kid really was more plant-like, Conan supposed that something about the moonlight fed the Kid. Photosynthesis? 

Kid moved into Hakuba's personal space. "I'm not going anywhere." He said, voice low. "I'm still me, there's just more, and I'm sorry if I didn't explain it well, I'm still trying to sort it all through myself." 

Hakuba pointedly ignored him, chopping off the fish's head, which fell into the sink in front of Kid. Kid made a whining sound in the back of his throat, dancing away from the fish head, putting Hakuba between it and him. 

... Huh. 

"Listen to me!" Kid snapped, grabbing the knife out of Hakuba's hand. Hakuba gave an irritated growl in response as the Kid held the knife, blade down over his head, his other hand resting on the cutting board. 

Conan realised what Kid was about to do a split second before the thief brought the knife down onto the back of his own hand. 

The blade bent and snapped, breaking into pieces against his skin. 

"I'm practically immortal and impervious." Kid growled in Hakuba's face. "You're not going to lose me again." 

Hakuba grabbed the knife back from Kid, his own teeth bared. "I **know** that!" He snapped, startling them both. "I'm a bloomin' detective for goodness sake! You talk about future events in _thousands_ of years, you turned into **stone** over the past couple of weeks, your skin is vastly thicker than it was and refuses to rise above _ambient temperature_. I can put the _fucking_ clues together, thank you very much!" 

Conan stared, shocked at the flare of temper. And confused by the temperature remark, when Kid had helped him to his feet the evening before, Kid's hands had been uncomfortably warm

But then the Kaitou Kid had been sitting on top of a rooftop, in direct sunlight all day. 

Hakuba waved the broken knife in Kid's direction, his face twisted into a frustrated snarl. "And while we may not lose you, _you_ are going to lose _us_." His voice cracked briefly, then he continued on. "A few thousand years may not mean anything to you now, but I'll be dust and bone by then. We don't even know what effect your tears on Conan, he may be fully an adult by then, but everyone else we know and their children, and their children's children will be **gone**." 

Conan could feel his own expression shifting to match Kid's, a distant sort of horror sinking in. He'd been so distracted by just _aging_ , dealing with the Kid waking up and going over the mysterious organisation information that he hadn't even considered it. 

He was still hungry at least. And thirsty. So he was at least mostly human. No alien spores in him, thank you. 

"And... I don't know how to protect you from this." Hakuba admitted, swinging an arm wide before his shoulders slumped. "The... Pandora... spore thing may not need people, but _humans_ do. And you were lonely enough before merging with Pandora to risk befriending not one, but **two** detectives while being an internationally wanted jewel thief! Not to mention that you are far more tactile now than you ever were before." 

Kid grimaced, but didn't dispute it. Kid had admitted so the previous night, but Conan had little experience for how the thief acted when he wasn't being the Kaitou Kid. 

"It is more dangerous for you too now." Hakuba wearily continued, looking exhausted. He'd probably been up all night, musing over the Kid's changes and what it meant. "Not just if you get caught by the police, but what happens if these mysterious organisations or someone else hungry to live forever gets a hold of you? If they bury so deep you cannot get the moonlight for a few decades or a few hundred years, are you still going to be impervious? Could they tear that immortality out of you?" 

"I don't know." Kid admitted, pressing one hand against his chest, his eyes slightly round. One thing was obvious from their conversation that evening though, removing Pandora from the Kid would most likely kill them both. "I don't... know."

"Neither do I." Hakuba said quietly, tossing the broken knife into the sink, where it rattled around. He braced his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning heavily against it, head bowed, his fringe hiding his expression as he breathed heavily. Kid carefully shifted closer, gloved hand raised as if uncertain if he should approach or not. Fingertips finally brushed Hakuba's shoulder, and when Hakuba didn't flinch away, Kid moved closer, their sleeves touching.

Hakuba reached out, wrapping an arm around Kid's waist, tugging the thief closer until it looked like the two of them were propping each other up. 

"Pandora..." Kid said slowly, resting his cheek on the curve of Hakuba's shoulder. "Pandora doesn't have any reference for touch. Not really. Touch in space is usually a collision, and therefore avoided." 

Where as for humans, it was an essential element to well being. People were social creatures and needed that contact. It was generally soothing in times of stress, and if merging with an alien being wasn't stressful, Conan didn't know what was. "What else has changed? What about the other senses?" Conan asked, stepping closer. "Taste? Smell? Hearing? Sight?"

"Touch is actually kind of overwhelming." Kid admitted, but he didn't let go of Hakuba. "The gloves help a lot. Smell is a bit muted, I don't know with taste. Sight and hearing are extremely limited for Pandora, but I'm hearing in ranges human's can't."

"Microwave frequencies." Conan muttered, remembering Kid's mention earlier. "Anything else?"

"I'm not sure." Kid shrugged. "Haven't tried any acrobatics yet, trying to find some equilibrium first." If his hearing was effected, his balance might be as well, the systems were linked together. 

"What about you?" Hakuba asked, turning his head to look at Conan. "Any changes other than the aging?"

"Nothing that I've noticed." Conan admitted with a shrug. He picked up the broken blade from the counter and ran his left pointer finger along the edge of it, a thin line of red beading up. "Not impervious." He commented as the air hit the cut and began to sting. He popped the bleeding digit in his mouth and sucked, tasting the coppery bite of blood. 

"We're sterilising that cut." Hakuba informed him, just slightly cross. But then Hakuba had been the one using the knife to cut raw fish, and who knew what kind of bacteria could infect the cut. 

"In a minute." Conan agreed, reaching across and turning on the water, rinsing his hand under the flow. When he pulled his hand out of the water, the bleeding had stopped, leaving a whitish line against his flesh. 

He sighed, finding himself leaning back against Hakuba, his head at Hakuba's waist. Hakuba didn't seem to mind, but thankfully didn't try to hug him like he was the Kid. He didn't mind the occasional contact with Hakuba, but he wasn't very comfortable being all touchy-feely like Hakuba and the Kid were. "It's not very noticeable, but your eyes are darker now." Hakuba said quietly. "More towards the indigo spectrum."

He reached up, touching his eyebrow. "I haven't looked in a mirror." He admitted. Too much other stuff going on. 

"What do we call you anyway?" Kid asked, rearranging himself against Hakuba so he could look at Conan without craning his neck. 

“Shin’ichi.” He paused and frowned, mostly to himself. “Or Kudo, if you must.” 

Kid and Hakuba exchanged a look over his head, a silent conversation that he was annoyingly not privy to. 

“Been a while since you were called by your true name?” Kid said diplomatically. 

“Yes.” He was half-way there, but it was close enough that the moniker rankled him. And while he was honoured to carry part of Conan Arthur Doyle's name, he missed being himself. 

Kid nodded, apparently appeased by the answer. “Okay.” He agreed. 

“Should we call you Kuroba?” Shin’ichi asked, tilting his head to the side as he studied the thief. “Or Kaito?”

Kid thought it over, then shook his head, cheek rubbing against Hakuba. “Nah. Kid’s good. Leave it at that.” He winked at Shin’ichi. “Got to have some mystique left.” 

And if they got into the habit of calling him by his real name, they might slip up at a crucial juncture in the future. Shin’ichi also liked the idea of being one of two who knew who the Kid’s real identity. He held the precious knowledge close, a special secret of his own. 

Well, his own and Hakuba's. 

He paused, wondering if this meant that he should start calling Hakuba by his given name. He dismissed the idea, it sounded strange, even in his own head. A yawn caught him by surprise and he stretched, sagging against Hakuba's warm bulk. 

"I should finish breakfast." Hakuba said apologetically. He paused, then added mournfully. "Although that was our best cutting knife." 

"Sorry." Kid said quietly. "Next time I stab myself, I'll try to remember to use a lesser quality blade." 

Hakuba was not pleased by the comment, but it made Shin'ichi snicker. He pushed himself away from Hakuba and walked over to check the rice cooker. He loved the fact that he didn't need a step stool to do so anymore. "Rice is done." He announced. "Some instant miso soup and I'll be good." 

"Alright." Hakuba agreed, pulling himself away from Kid, who let him go with a small grumble. Hakuba walked over to the cupboard, sorting through it for a minute before tossing Shin'ichi a packet of dried miso soup. He turned back to the cupboard, pulling out soy sauce and a small container of miso. "I will make miso mackerl for dinner. If I cook it now, it'll give the flavours a chance to soak in during the day."

"Sounds good." Shin'ichi agreed, turning on the kettle. The slightly salty flavour sounded excellent as well. Kid passed him a bowl filled with rice, an empty bowl for the miso, and chopsticks. "Thanks." 

Kid waved it off, finding an out of the way counter and hopping up on it, watching them with the air of a curious cat. "Did you finish your notes?" Hakuba asked, finding another knife and began slicing the mackerel into steaks instead of fillets. 

"Yup." Kid agreed. "We were good, and are waiting for you to go over it before cross checking." 

Although it was tempting, to see what similar experiences they might have had. Shin'ichi took a bite of rice while he waited for the kettle, then ducked under Hakuba's arm to grab the soy sauce, drizzling it over his rice. Hakuba quirked an eyebrow in his direction, Shin'ichi usually had his rice plain, it normally didn't need anything else.

Another side effect if his transformation? 

He didn't normally put sugar in his tea either, preferring bitter flavours over sweet. Hmm. Something to keep an eye on. He tried to remember what he'd eaten during the night and hit a blank, he'd been focused on other things. Although he did remember eating a bunch of the seaweed crackers. 

He shrugged back at Hakuba, putting the soy sauce back on the counter and moving back out of Hakuba's way. The kettle whistled and he set his rice down, pouring the miso into the empty bowl before adding the hot water, stirring it with the chop sticks. Satisfied it was mixed, he dumped part of the rice into the miso, taking a bite of the hot liquid. 

... It needed soy sauce. He sighed and reached for the soy sauce, only to find Hakuba holding the bottle out for him to take. "Salt craving?" Hakuba inquired. 

"A bit." He agreed, pouring a bit into the soup and mixing it up. "Possibly sugar too. Not as much though." 

Hakuba hummed thoughtfully as he took the soy sauce back, and Shin'ichi could see him mentally adjusting recipes in his head. 

The soy sauce took care of the flavour and he quickly gulped his breakfast down, feeling more and more sluggish the brighter the light got. "Thanks." He said, putting his bowl in the sink, next to the fish head, whose eyes were starting to turn somewhat milky, like a zombie fish. 

"Hold on." Hakuba reached up into a cabinet, pulling out the small first aid kit there. "Let's see your finger." 

Shin'ichi held his left index finger out, then blinked in surprise as he realised the cut was gone. "Doesn't need it." He said, slightly confused. 

Kid hopped off the counter, both he and Hakuba bending over to inspect where the shallow cut had been. "Gone." Kid verified, running a gloved thumb over where the injury had been. Hakuba pressed his lips together, looking concerned, but didn't say anything as he put the first aid kit away. 

"New list." Shin'ichi rubbed his fingertips together. He'd always been a fairly fast healer, but that was strange. "Side effects." 

Another yawn caught him out of no where. "We'll see ya when you wake up." Kid said, ruffling Shin'ichi's hair with a fond grin on his face. Shin'ichi growled back, smoothing out his hair. Hakuba simply waved, his attention on the stove where he was adding spoonfuls of miso paste to a pot. 

Shin'ichi collected his pyjamas before heading into the bathing room, turning on a the light before staring at himself in the mirror. Hakuba was right, his eyes were darker, less of a bright saphirre blue and heading towards a more violet shade, like the colour of blue jeans. 

And Kid's eyes had gone from a violet-blue to unnatural vibrant crimson. Red and blue combined made purple.... 

He tried to picture himself with red eyes and failed. Making a face, he quickly disrobed and took a shower, scrubbing the long day away. The water felt good and he almost debated taking a bath. They'd need to fill the onsen tub first. Something to mention to the others in the evening, a special treat for the Kid waking up and not being dead. 

He got dressed in the same baggy clothing he'd worn the night before and climbed into bed. He took a deep breath as he stared up the celing. 

Tonight, they'd start figuring out how to strike back. The time for running and hiding was almost over. 

-


End file.
